


Social Trials

by kittandchips



Series: Force Bond [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Parent Darth Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-03
Updated: 2006-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittandchips/pseuds/kittandchips
Summary: This is part of the Force Bond series, an AU where Vader raises Luke, but is a complete story unto itself. It is set between FB2 and 3 and after Empire Day. Luke is thirteen. Vader decides it's time for Luke to learn a thing or two about mixing with the Imperial aristocracy, while Luke is struggling with his own sense of self-identity.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Force Bond [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722820
Comments: 16
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

"How long are you intending to stay on Coruscant, Governor Tarkin?" Darth Vader enquired of the man walking beside him. They had just finished a brief meeting about the progress of Krennic's pet project, and Vader was now showing the man back to his transport. Like him, Tarkin hailed from the Outer Rim and had little time for the political intrigue of the galactic capital.

"As long as I can afford to deprive my own territory of my presence," Tarkin said. "I am anxious to return as soon as possible. I intend to personally oversee the elimination of the Nandrai underground resistance."

"I am finding myself having to _personally_ oversee operations to an ever increasing extent," Vader said, with a touch of weariness.

Tarkin offered a cold smile. "I intend to draft a proposal for improving officer training methods, once I have some spare—"

Tarkin broke off and came to a sudden halt. Vader glanced in front and quickly understood the reason for Tarkin's surprise. Luke was wandering towards them, dressed only in a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. A trail of water dripped behind him.

"Dad," Luke said, earnestly, "have you seen my black shirt? It has red writing on the front."

Vader stared at Luke, scarcely believing the sight before him. Several seconds passed before he could bring himself to reply. "Why would _I_ have seen your shirt?!" Vader demanded, with more than a hint of annoyance.

"Well, it's _black_ ," Luke explained, as if the reason were obvious. "I thought it might have been mixed up in your laundry by accident. Can you check, please? I really wanted to wear it today. See we're having a no-uniform day at school and—"

"I am busy—"

"It would only take a second to check!" Luke insisted.

Luke's gaze flicked to Tarkin, who was still staring at him in astonishment.

"Hi, I'm Luke," Luke said, offering a dripping wet hand. When no response was forthcoming, Luke prompted him. "Who are you?"

"Luke," Vader said, struggling to keep his temper in check, "go and wait in your room. And for star's sake, put on some clothes."

"Okay, okay," Luke said, still trailing water as he made a quick exit into a nearby elevator.

Tarkin stared after him. "I wasn't aware you had a son, Lord Vader," he said, thoughtfully.

"You were talking about drafting a proposal for dealing with the lack of competence among Imperial officers," Vader said, hoping his embarrassment wouldn't leak into his voice.

Tarkin gave Vader a somewhat amused glance, before he resumed his earlier conversation. Vader sighed, inwardly. It was likely the story of Governor Tarkin's first encounter with young Luke Skywalker would find its way to the ears of the Emperor before tomorrow.

Why did no one warn him that this is what fatherhood involved?

* * *

It was fifteen minutes before his father turned up in his bedroom, and Luke had been looking through his closet, trying to find another shirt he could stand to wear. Luckily, his father was carrying the black shirt, and he tossed it in his direction.

"Thanks," Luke said happily, as he pulled it over his head.

"Luke, come with me. We need to talk."

"Can't it wait?" Luke said, hastily picking up his school pack and combing his hair. "I'm going to be late for school if I don't hurry."

"No, it cannot wait. And I do not care if you are late for school. Come with me, _now_."

Luke sighed in response to his father's harsh tone of voice, and he followed reluctantly. It sounded like he was in for a long, boring lecture. Luke wasn't exactly sure, but he had a feeling it might have something to do with the guest his father had met with that morning.

They moved into a nearby conference room, containing a round black table with matching chairs, but his father made no move to sit down. The doors slid closed behind Luke, and he walked forward until he was standing directly opposite his father, yet at a carefully-selected safe distance. He folded his arms, hoping to appear relaxed and undisturbed by the confrontation.

"What is it?" Luke asked, looking up to meet his father's masked gaze.

"Son, this is a place of military and political business," his father started, waving a finger at him. "It is not a holiday beach resort. You will _not_ wander around naked."

"I was not naked!" Luke protested.

"A towel does not meet my definition of being dressed."

"Your idea of being dressed is covering every last millimeter of skin," Luke mumbled, under his breath.

His father continued, choosing to ignore him. "Also, talking about subjects such as missing laundry, in front of guests, is not only inappropriate, but plain bad mannered."

"What's wrong with laundry?" Luke asked. "Everyone has laundry!"

"I do not care. You will not do that again. And, most of all, you will address me with appropriate respect, especially in front of guests. I never want to hear you call me, what you called me this morning, _ever_ again."

"What did I call you this morning?"

His father was not convinced by his innocent tone. "You _know_ what you said."

Luke thought back. "You mean 'Dad'?"

"Yes." His father leaned closer. "Don't _ever_ call me that again."

"Why?" Luke said, stepping back. "That's what Ben calls his father."

"I am not now, nor have I ever been, your 'Dad'." He said the word carefully, as if afraid of it. "I am your father—there is a vast difference. Address me as such, or by my proper title."

Luke couldn't help but smirk at the words. "You expect me to go around calling you 'sir' or 'my lord'?"

"Yes. Or else plain 'Father' is also acceptable. But that is _all_ that is acceptable."

"Come on," Luke said, incredulous. "Anyone would think I had called you by your first name, Ana—"

Luke reared back as his father stuck his gloved hand over his mouth.

"If you say that word, I will send you to school with a mouth gag," his father said. "And that is no longer my name."

"Mmm-hmmm," Luke mumbled, nodding as best as he could.

His father removed his hand, and Luke wiped his mouth.

"Now, repeat to me the three points about your behavior I have just made."

"Three points?" Luke said, confused.

"I will start you off. First—you will not wander around naked."

"Okay," Luke said, looking thoughtful. "Uh, the second one was that I'm not allowed to call you Dad."

"No, that was the third one."

Luke thought for a moment. "I can't remember."

"It was about inappropriate topics of conversation."

"Oh yeah," Luke said, brightening. "No discussing laundry."

"Now repeat them."

"Come on," Luke said, looking longingly towards the door.

"Luke!"

Luke sighed. "No wandering around naked, talking about laundry, or calling you Dad."

"Good. Now make sure you remember that."

Luke rolled his eyes and then spoke up, "I'm late now, can you at least give me a note so I don't get in trouble?"

"Very well."

Luke dug in his school sack and pulled out a datapad and lightpen. He waited impatiently while his father wrote the note, and then raised a hand to take it back.

But his father didn't oblige. Instead, his gaze was focused on his shirt. Luke glanced down at the writing, then back up at his father, smirking.

His father spoke quietly, but dangerously. "Son, what does that shirt say?"

"It says 'You think you've got problems? My father is a Sith Lord!'"

His father didn't reply, he simply stared at him.

Luke swallowed, sensing his father's darkening mood. "It's funny! I got it last weekend at the market down in the senate square. They'll put anything you want on a shirt for you. Neat, huh?"

* * *

"Then he made me go and change," Luke said, sadly. "He confiscated the shirt. I don't think I'm ever going to see it again."

"I guess he didn't find it funny," Ben said, munching on a piece of fruit.

"No kidding." Luke rested his head on his hand. "He said I have to come home straight after school."

"You're grounded? For how long?"

"I don't know. It may just be for today. He said something about having a talk about my recent attitude."

"Ah," Ben said, nodding in understanding.

"—which probably means he's going to spend the entire day making a list of everything I've done since I moved in which doesn't meet with his approval," Luke continued. "And that means just about everything, because _nothing_ I do is right by him. It seems like all we do is argue over something or other."

"That's normal," Ben said, helpfully.

"It's not fair!" Luke said, not pausing to listen. "He never listens to me! I try and yell to get my point across, but my voice comes out all scratchy and squeaky."

"Sounds like you need to take some time out and punch something," Ben suggested, continuing with his lunch.

"That's not going to help me tonight," Luke sighed.

"Maybe you should start calling him 'sir'," Ben suggested, grinning.

"Yeah, that's another thing," Luke said, slamming his hand on the table. "Who in their right mind goes around calling their own father 'sir'? I can't _believe_ he actually suggested that."

"It's common in the Imperial military families."

"And you should have seen the note he gave me!" Luke continued. "You know what it said? After he held me up with all his lecturing, he had the nerve to write on the note 'Luke is late this morning because he forgot how to dress himself'."

Ben smirked. "Did B-60 accept it?"

"Eventually. After I argued with that stupid droid for ten minutes!" The signal for the end of the lunch break sounded, and Luke stood up with a groan. "This day couldn't get any worse!"

"Here's something good," Ben said. "Holo-Gamer's Haven are having a one day sale. Let's head over there after school."

Luke glared at his friend, until he caught on.

"Oh, that's right, you have to go straight home."

"He'll probably send out the army if I'm so much as five minutes late."

"The store doesn't close until 18-hundred," Ben said. "Maybe you can come after he's finished lecturing you. I'll meet you there."

"If I'm still in one piece," Luke said, with a heavy sigh.

* * *

It had been a busy day for Vader, with reports to be heard and meetings to be attended. His mind hadn't focused on any of it, however. There was something about the incident this morning that was continuing to bother him, no matter what new task he attempted to complete. It went beyond the usual family arguments he had with his son ... there was something at the root of this, which, in the heat of his anger, he had overlooked.

His son had been genuinely unaware that he was acting inappropriately around Tarkin. Of course he would have no idea! After all, a little over a year ago he had been a farmboy in the wastelands of Tatooine. Wandering around in a towel, and a casual greeting would be expected on Tatooine. There was a time when he wouldn't have thought twice about behaving the same way himself.

Vader sighed, staring blankly at the inner walls of his meditation chamber. It was a serious matter, and one, until now, he had been ignorant of. Somehow, in the glow of a false, naïve hope, he had simply imagined Luke would learn how to live in his new environment without any assistance from him. It was lazy, he concluded. He had accepted the task of guiding Luke to adulthood, and so should be more conscious of the work and attention it required. There was far more to becoming an adult than simply the physical changes his son was struggling through, and he should know that better than anyone.

A ripple in the Force caused him to sit up slightly, searching for the reason. He was rewarded with a familiar presence. His son had returned home. He probed deeper, testing his son's mood. It was much the same as the one he'd left with. A mixture of frustration and anger, countered by a nervous concern for what awaited him. He did not respond to his mental greeting, he was far too focused on himself to be aware of it. Vader stood up, deciding to continue this somewhat one-sided conversation in person.

Out in the corridor, Luke was creeping along the wall looking like he was here to rob the place. The sound of the doors sliding open startled him, and he tripped over his own feet. Vader moved forward to help him up, but he ignored his offer and scrambled back up using the wall to assist.

"How do you do that!?" he asked, annoyed.

"Do what?"

"Know when I'm coming. Do you have access to the security cameras?"

"No cameras. Your presence has an effect on the Force, which I can sense."

"What kind of effect?" Luke asked, curiously.

Vader considered how to describe it. "Imagine a vast room ... like the senate chamber. Imagine this room is completely in darkness. When you enter, every light in the room is turned on."

"I really do _that_?"

Vader nodded, pleased that Luke was interested. "You have the strongest presence in the Force that I have ever sensed. Which," he added, "makes sneaking down the corridor somewhat redundant."

Luke shrugged, looking aside.

"When you are ready, join me in the conference room," Vader said. "We have a matter to discuss."

Luke sighed, and trudged into his bedroom. Vader wondered exactly what was causing such reluctance. His son truly was a mystery—at times he craved his attention and badgered him endlessly for it, yet at others, he seemed more comfortable in isolation.

Unfortunately, his current phase of seclusion was occurring at precisely the time when isolation was the last thing he needed.

* * *

Within half an hour, Luke returned to the corridor and crossed the hallway to the conference room. He felt resigned to this lecture. It was unavoidable, and the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could go and meet Ben at the Imperial City mall. With any luck, his father didn't plan to go on too long. Maybe it was just another reminder to clean up his room.

He took a seat opposite and stared down at his reflection in the black table surface. When no admonishing words were forthcoming, he looked up, curious.

His father was staring at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Luke said, defensively.

"You look like you think I am going to yell at you."

"Aren't you?"

"Why would I do that?"

"You always yell at me."

"That is an exaggeration."

Luke shrugged, looking aside. "What's this about, then?"

"I have been thinking about what happened this morning, with Governor Tarkin."

"Who?"

"The person you greeted with 'who are you?'"

"Oh. Governor Tarkin ... sounds familiar."

"He was instrumental in the formation of the Empire, and is one of the Emperor's most loyal subjects. He now rules one of the largest sectors in the Empire."

"Really?!" Luke said. "I guess that explains why you were so annoyed at my towel."

"It wasn't entirely your fault."

Luke was stunned into silence. He hadn't expected that, after the lecture this morning. Not entirely his fault? Was his father feeling all right?

"You are not used to dealing with important people," he continued. "I think it is time for a few lessons."

"Lessons?" Luke asked, curious.

"In how to socialize with the ruling class."

"We've been over this. Don't wear a towel. Don't call you—"

"Those are the most obvious things. There is much more you need to learn."

"Like what?" Luke asked, becoming nervous.

"You will understand as I begin to teach you."

"You don't mean you're going to teach me to act all snooty and proper, do you?" Luke asked. "Like some of the people at school."

His father leaned back, apparently considering his words. "That depends on your definition of proper," he said, eventually.

"No way! I'm out!" Luke said, pushing his chair back, and standing up.

"I do not recall giving you a choice!"

"You're just trying to make me more like _you_ ," Luke said. "Forget it!"

"Sit down!"

"See, I _knew_ you were going to yell at me!" Luke yelled.

His father appeared to take a moment to calm himself, before replying with an even voice. "This has nothing to do with my ego, Son. Like it or not, you are highly placed in the Imperial social hierarchy, and you must learn how someone in your position should behave. We cannot delay this any longer."

Luke sighed, in two minds about whether to keep arguing, or simply resign himself to this. His father sounded pretty serious, and when his father was serious, there was no point arguing.

"How long is this going to take?" Luke asked, flopping back down into a seat.

"As long as it needs to. I will train you in what's expected of you, and then we will attend some formal functions where you can practice."

Luke felt nervous. "You mean gatherings where there are lots of important people?"

"Yes."

"This is crazy! You might as well try and teach a Tusken Raider to recite poetry! Face it, I'm never going to fit in."

"I am going to _teach_ you how to fit in. After a few simple lessons, you may surprise yourself and actually enjoy a formal, social occasion."

Luke rolled his eyes with skepticism. His father had some amazing abilities, but not even he could change him to the point where he'd look anything less than a snowman on Tatooine at one of these parties.

"When are we going to start?" Luke asked, his voice heavy with dread.

"Immediately," his father said, standing up. He raised a hand to beckon him over. "Come here."

Luke looked at his wrist-chrono. He wanted to get to the mall by 17-hundred, and it was already 1630. He looked back at his father, who was waiting for him to join him. He debated mentally whether or not to ask if they could do this later, until his father put a quick end to that line of thought.

"Hurry up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Luke sighed, pushing his chair back. His father was always so impatient.

"If you co-operate and pay attention, this will not take long," his father said, as Luke came to stand opposite. "Now, the first thing I am going to teach you is how to greet someone."

Luke groaned. "I _know_ how to do that."

"Demonstrate, then." His father folded his arms. "Pretend I am someone important."

"There's a stretch," Luke said, grinning.

His father ignored his comment. "What would you say to introduce yourself?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't say anything to _you_. I'd mumble some excuse and run."

"Luke!" his father said, losing his patience. "Stop wasting my time!"

"Okay, okay. Uh ... I'd say ... 'Hi, I'm Luke', then I'd offer to shake hands."

"'Hi, I'm Luke'?" his father repeated, incredulous.

Luke shrugged, grinning at the sound of the casual words coming from his overly formal father. "What's wrong with that?"

"Perhaps that is an acceptable way to greet one of your peers in an informal setting, however it will not pass in Imperial high society. A formal greeting is expected. You will need to state your full name, and perhaps add that you are my son, if they are not already aware of the fact."

"But that sounds like I'm name-dropping!" Luke said.

"If you want people to treat you with any respect at all, name-dropping is essential."

"This is all so fake," Luke said, looking aside. "Why do I have to act like someone I'm not?"

"Because that is what dealing with the upper class is all about. All outward appearances are simply projections, perhaps some more true than others. But showing your true self is showing weakness ... and to succeed among the powerful, you must never appear weak."

Luke nodded, staring at the floor. His father reached out and shifted his head back up.

"You may not feel very confident, but you must learn to project confidence. Stand up straight—do not slouch. Look people in the eye."

"Okay," Luke sighed, wishing he was at the mall right now. No one cared if he was slouching there.

"Now, let's revise. What would you say when introducing yourself to an important adult at a social gathering?"

"I'd say ... 'Hello, I'm Luke Skywalker' ... and then I'd point you out, and say 'that's my Dad'."

Vader stared at his son, clearly on the verge of breaking something with frustration, when Luke suddenly smirked.

"Kidding, kidding!"

"I think I have had more than enough of you for one day," his father said, sounding weary.

Luke brightened, glad that his baiting had paid off.

"We will continue tomorrow ... come and find me when you are eating a meal, and I will ensure you know how to use eating utensils properly."

"You mean knives and forks?" Luke said. "Of course I know how to use them!"

"We shall see," his father said. "Before you go—" His father held out a hand. "Show me how you would shake hands."

Luke extended his hand and gripped his father's black-gloved one. After a moment, his father let him go.

"That was pitiful," he said. "It was similar to shaking hands with a dead fish."

"Fish don't have hands," Luke said, confused.

"Grip the other person's hand properly. Shaking hands should be an active gesture."

"That reminds me of Uncle Owen," Luke said. "He used to practically break your hand while shaking it."

"Good. That shows self-assurance."

"Breaking somebody's hand shows self-assurance?"

His father replied by pointing firmly at the door. Luke hastily left, knowing there was only so far he could push his father.

Besides, he didn't want to wear out his patience after only one of these lessons.

* * *

Within fifteen minutes, Luke arrived at the vast Imperial City mall, and took the elevator up to the entertainment level. There was a crowd of bargain hunters at Holo-Gamer's Haven, but it didn't take him long to find Ben. He was in the racing-sim section.

"Hi," Luke said, walking up beside his friend.

Ben looked up. "You're still in one piece, I see."

"Huh?" Luke was confused for a moment. "Oh yeah," he added, understanding. "Still alive ... but I don't know if that's a good thing."

"Are you grounded?"

"No," Luke said. "It's worse."

"Worse than grounded?"

"Much worse," Luke said, picking up a marked-down flight sim game. "He's trying to teach me how to act when in—" Luke put on an affected voice, "—upper class Imperial society."

Ben smirked. "I didn't think your father was into all that stuff. From what I've seen on the Holonet, he'd rather be flying a snub fighter than attending a party."

"I know. But somehow, he's got it in his head that I need to learn how to fit in with all these people. It's crazy! Me, Luke Skywalker—mixing with the elite!"

"Well, you _are_ his son," Ben said. "A lot of people would consider you part of the 'elite'."

"But I'm not!" Luke insisted. "I'm just ... well, I'm just plain old Luke."

Luke began to dig through a bin full of old software, hoping to find a long lost gem.

"Honestly, why me?" he mumbled. "I didn't do anything special."

Ben watched as Luke dug roughly through the bin, but didn't add any insights into Luke's dilemma.

Eventually, Luke looked up. "Nothing but trash. No wonder they're on sale." He became aware that Ben was holding a box tightly. "What have you got there?"

"Coruscant Street Racer 3. Half price."

Luke made a dive for it, but Ben held it out of reach. "Find your own. There's probably another one there somewhere."

"Even at half price I couldn't afford it, anyway," Luke said, looking up his credit balance on his comlink. "So much for being a member of the rich and powerful. I spent most of my allowance, and I don't get paid until the weekend."

"Maybe if you called your father, he'd give you an early payment."

"I might as well ask him for a lecture on the emptiness of materialism."

"Well, you can borrow mine when I'm sick of it," Ben said. "I'll go pay for this."

Luke nodded. He browsed the store aimlessly for a while, before deciding he was better off waiting outside. No point finding out something was on sale if you couldn't afford it anyway.

After passing through an elaborate anti-theft field, he picked a bench, and then sat and watched the various shoppers walk by. Nobody looked at him—he was just another teenager, one of thousands who came to spend time at the mall. He wondered if they would react differently if they knew who his father was. For a moment, he had a vision of being pointed at and talked about and was secretly glad he was anonymous.

Once Ben emerged from the store, Luke stood up, ready to leave. It was a quiet walk back to their respective homes—Luke was brooding, and not really in the mood for conversation.

Once they reached the corner where they parted ways, Ben finally said something.

"Maybe you should look on the bright side. There are many people who would give anything to be in your position."

"Why?" Luke asked, surprised.

"Because when you're important ... you can make a difference. You have the possibility of one day doing something about all the problems in the galaxy."

Luke considered it. He hadn't really looked at it from that angle.

"Just think about it. See you at school tomorrow."

Luke nodded, absently.

* * *

Luke did think about his friend's words. All evening, and well into the next day.

He began to wonder if maybe he was just being selfish, complaining about being important. His father's position meant that he had a bedroom larger than some people's entire home on Tatooine. There was no need to worry about food or any other essentials, and he had the very best health care and education. There was a time when he'd dreamed of simply having a father, never mind health care and education.

Was he becoming self-absorbed and unaware, complaining about having to listen to social lessons, while people in the dark lower levels of Coruscant did not even have a crate to live in?

By the time evening rolled around, Luke was determined to start afresh. He collected a well-stocked dinner tray from the kitchen droids and then went in search of his father.

His father looked up as he entered the conference room, and Luke could sense his surprise.

"I was expecting to have to send a squadron of stormtroopers to escort you here," his father remarked.

Luke pulled out a chair and sat down opposite his father. "Look, I know I was being annoying yesterday, and I'm sorry. I understand why you're doing this, and I promise I'll cooperate from now on."

His father leaned back, flexing his hands together. "Are you sure you are my son?" he asked, eventually.

Luke nodded, smiling.

"Very well." His father stood up and joined him on his side of the table. It soon became clear that Luke's tray didn't contain the complete set of eating utensils that would be provided at a diplomatic function, because his father contacted the kitchen droids to have more brought in.

"What is the point of all this?" Luke asked, eyeing the carefully arranged knives, forks, and spoons. "This is totally unnecessary. I can eat all my food with just a fork."

"I am sure there is a HoloNet channel who would pay money to record you eating a bantha steak with 'just a fork', Son," his father said. "However, most civilized people would rather not have to witness that."

"I guess," Luke admitted. "Aunt Beru always made me cut it up into pieces. But why does there have to be so many knives and forks?"

"There are different utensils for different courses. Sometimes, they are there to show off the wealth of the host."

"If I had a lot of money, I wouldn't spend it on different sized forks," Luke said, studying them.

His father stood up, returning to his work on the other side of the table. "Practice using the different sized utensils for eating different parts of your meal. And never eat with your fingers or lick your plate."

Luke nodded, automatically, while continuing to make his way through his meal. Rich people were so strange. But who knew what he could be like in another ten years? Maybe if he attended enough of these parties he'd become used to using expensive cutlery, and want nothing but.

"Father," Luke said, suddenly. "Do you think I've ... I've changed since I moved in with you?"

His father looked up from his work, clearly surprised at the question. "Changed in what way?"

"Personality wise."

His father seemed to consider it for a moment. "I did not know you very well when you first moved in, so it is difficult for me to compare. However, I do remember you were very withdrawn. Understandable, considering the difficult circumstances. You have since gained some self-confidence. Perhaps a little too much, at times."

Luke grinned, looking down.

"Why do you ask?"

Luke leaned on his hand, still pushing his vegetables in endless circles.

"I'm worried that I'm turning into a ... well, not that exactly ... it's more that ... I don't really know how to describe it." Luke was quiet for a moment, trying to think of a way to express his thoughts. "Sometimes I'm scared I'm becoming—" Luke gestured out beyond the walls, "—one of _them_."

"Them?"

"Taking everything I have for granted ... thinking I'm better than everyone else, just because of where I live. Treating credits like they fall from the sky."

"And you are worried this social training will encourage this mindset?" his father asked.

Luke nodded, relieved that his father understood. "Yes."

"Luke, I deal with the people you refer to on a daily basis. If I ever suspected that you were becoming like them, I would send you back to Tatooine for a few weeks."

Luke flinched, his fork nearly slipping out of his hand. He _wouldn't_ ... he couldn't!

"But I do not believe it will ever come to that," his father continued. "I have not always lived among this social class, and neither have you. We both know what it is like to live at the other end of the scale and that alters our perspective."

Luke nodded, feeling slightly better.

"Learning to live in a society does not mean compromising your values or your personality."

Luke nodded and returned to his food. After shoveling in the last mouthful, he gathered up the multitudes of eating utensils and arranged them in a stack on his plate.

"So what else do I have to learn?" Luke asked, voice somewhat obscured through his chewing. "Are we finished yet?"

"Do not talk while eating," his father said. "Other than that, you have learned enough for today."

Luke swallowed, hiding a smile. For a moment, he almost felt like he was back on the farm, eating a family meal with his aunt and uncle. His father was his family, in every possible way, but eating together wasn't a possibility, both due to his father's medical condition and his busy schedule. This was probably the closest they could get.

"We should do this more often," Luke said, pressing a nearby comm terminal button, to summon a kitchen droid.

His father was focused on his computer terminal. "I am free to give you another lesson this weekend."

"I meant eating together, not the social lessons!" Luke protested.

His father leaned back, studying him silently.

"I know you can't really eat ..." Luke said, suddenly feeling awkward, "... out in the open, but … it's nice to eat with company." Luke swallowed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as he stared into the blank recesses of his father's gaze. "It reminds me of back on the farm," he finished, in a rush.

His father didn't reply, he simply continued to gaze at him. Luke began to think about his words, and wondered if his father had taken them the wrong way.

"I ... I understand you're busy. I don't mean to make you feel bad ... I'm not saying that I'm homesick for moisture farm life." His voice began to sound raspy, as it sometimes did when he was nervous. "I guess it's hard for you to be around people eating—"

"Son," his father said, cutting him off, "if I am here, you are always welcome to eat in my presence."

"Okay," Luke said, deciding to make an exit.

"Stop," his father said, causing him to pause in his retreat. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

Luke shrugged, staring at his feet. "We've never really discussed it before."

His father appeared to be considering his words. "Then it is good that you brought this issue to my attention. Do you have anything else on your mind?"

Luke shook his head hastily, feeling like he was caught in a speeder's headlights. Of course there were other things on his mind—especially where his father was concerned. Questions, concerns, worries ... but the eating issue was more than enough for now. The rest ... well, he had only known his father for a year and a half. Most people knew their father for their entire lifetime. It was only natural they had a lot of catching up to do.

"I better go and finish off my homework," Luke said, when his father did not continue the conversation. "'Night."

"Goodnight, Luke."

As Luke left the room, he could almost feel his father watching him. What he was thinking, Luke could only wonder.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

"This is ridiculous," Luke sighed, coming to a halt at the end of the table.

"Perhaps you should try listening to me," his father suggested, with a hint of annoyance.

"I am listening!" Luke protested. "It's not helping!"

"Try again," his father said, resting back against the edge of the table.

Luke groaned, and once again paced the length of the room, past his father. Today marked two weeks since his father had first proposed these 'social lessons' and Luke had since renamed them 'social torture lessons'. Today's session was the worst yet.

"Your spine is still crooked," his father remarked.

Luke gritted his teeth and straightened up.

"Now you are staring at the floor."

Luke lifted his gaze, feeling his temper take a turn for the worse. He took a few steps, before a loud beep from the door terminal caused him to stumble in shock. He flailed his arms, desperately trying to regain his balance, before finally giving in and grabbing a nearby chair for support.

"That's it!" Luke said, collapsing into the seat. "I quit! I've done my best, but this is still just one big waste of time. Face it, I'm a klutz."

His father was about to reply, when a stormtrooper entered the room, carrying a datapad. He came to attention and saluted.

His father accepted the datapad and placed it on the table. He then gestured to the stormtrooper to move to the center of the room.

"I am trying to teach my son good posture. Walk up and down so he may observe you."

The trooper instantly obeyed, and Luke buried his head in his hands. As if his own humiliation wasn't enough, now his father was dragging an innocent stormtrooper into it.

"Watch, son."

Luke reluctantly raised his head.

"See how his spine and head are aligned? The weight is carried in perfect balance to make walking as easy as possible. What does such a gait suggest to you?"

"That he's been bred and trained to walk like that?" Luke suggested.

"It projects self-confidence and purpose."

The trooper came to a halt, and his father waved him away. "You are dismissed."

The trooper saluted again and left.

"Well, he's not a teenager, is he?" Luke suggested, after the doors had slid closed.

"I am aware of your developmental stage, Luke. It is a minor obstacle, nothing more." His father tapped his fingers on the table-surface. "If I were free to train you in the ways of the Force, this would be much easier."

"The Force?" Luke asked, sitting up in curiosity. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Never mind," his father said, pointing at the center of the floor. "Now that you have rested, why don't you try again?"

Luke reluctantly hauled himself to his feet.

"Imagine you are a stormtrooper," his father suggested. "With confidence and purpose."

Luke walked the length of the room and then turned around when he reached the door. After repeating the cycle a few times, he glanced over at his father, wondering why the usual criticisms hadn't yet reached his ears.

"Well?" he prompted.

"That was much better," his father said.

"Great. Can I go now?" Luke asked, pleadingly.

"I may have been taking the wrong approach with this," his father said, thoughtfully. "Your problem is not physical but mental. You need to learn the power of the mind over matter. When you have inner confidence, outer confidence will naturally follow."

"Inner confidence?" Luke asked. "Didn't you just tell me the other day that I had too much of that?"

"Yes, that was my observation. However, now that I have spent this time with you, I am beginning to think I was mistaken. You are impetuous, even reckless at times, and you have a strong desire to prove yourself, but that does not translate to inner confidence."

Luke sighed. "Great. Psychoanalysis."

"Perhaps we should work on your self-esteem, before going further."

"You make me sound like a droid. Break out the tools, let's do some tinkering!"

"If only it were that simple."

"Here's an idea," Luke said. "Why don't you just adopt Threepio? Forget about social lessons—he's already _programmed_ with all this stuff. Don't need to worry about posture either—he _can't_ slouch! I guess he's always wandering around naked though, so that might be a problem—"

His father raised a hand, stopping him. "As much as Threepio is part of our family, you are in no danger of being replaced, young one. Now, we need to discuss your self-esteem." He pulled out a chair and gestured to Luke to sit opposite.

"Can't we do this tomorrow?" Luke sighed, resting on the very edge of the chair. "You said this lesson was only about posture."

"Why are you reluctant to discuss this?"

"Because ..." Luke sighed, looking away. "Can I be honest?"

His father leaned back, tilting his head as if amused. "I have never known you to feel the need to ask, before."

Luke gave a half-smile and looked away. His father was right, but this was different—his father was trying to help him, which made him feel guilty for saying this, but ... he wouldn't understand, otherwise. "I don't think you can help me. Really, you have no idea what it's like to be me. You're ... well you're _you_. Everyone knows about your power. Me, let's face it, I'm just a farm boy from Tatooine."

"What is wrong with being a farm boy from Tatooine?"

"See, I knew you wouldn't understand." Luke sighed. "People have expectations of me, because I'm your son. They expect me to be as powerful as you. Then they realize I'm just an ex-farm boy and they lose all interest. When you think powerful and important, do you think of a farm boy?"

"Power comes in all shapes and sizes, young one. One of the most powerful beings I ever knew was—" His father was holding one of his hands about three feet above the table, but abruptly, he let it drop. "But that is beside the point. Luke, you _are_ powerful, because you are my son. Unfortunately, it is only potential at the moment and will remain that way until the Emperor decides otherwise. If other people choose not to see your potential, then that is their mistake, and it will be corrected in the future. You should not let it affect your sense of self-worth."

"I get tired of being an outcast," Luke said. "Although, I bet even if I did act more like people expected, I would still be excluded. I'm too different."

"Yes," his father agreed. "You are right. You will undoubtedly always be set apart."

"Thanks for letting me down easy," Luke sighed.

"It should not be a let down. Luke, we all have a destiny. You are different for a reason. When you are older and wiser, you will look back on your life and understand what that reason is. For now, you simply have to learn to accept yourself as you are."

Luke nodded, wishing that was as easy to do as it was to say.

"And Son ... you may believe I am too far removed from your way of life to ever understand how you feel, but I was a teenager once."

Luke hid a smile, unable to imagine it.

"I did not come from a highly placed background, either," his father continued. "Far from it. There were many times when I felt set apart because of my abilities, and in many respects, I am still an outcast."

"But you're ... well, you're ruling the entire galaxy," Luke said. "Who wants to be like everyone else when you have that much power?"

"Yes. And you are my son, and are an heir to that power. You are of more importance than anyone else you may meet. You are even more important than Tarkin and the other Grand Moffs. For that reason, you should never let anyone make you feel unworthy of your position—it is your right by blood, regardless of your prior upbringing. Do you understand?"

"I guess so," Luke said, feeling a little overwhelmed. He wasn't certain he could live up to all that.

"You don't sound very sure," his father observed.

"I ..." Luke hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't understand what his father meant, he just wasn't sure he agreed with it all. He wasn't sure he wanted to inherit his father's status in the Empire. In all truth, he didn't want to be part of the Imperial hierarchy at all. His father seemed to have so much faith in him, though, that he couldn't bring himself to say it. It would sound like he was saying that he didn't want to be his father's son.

And that _definitely_ wasn't true, Luke assured himself. "This is all just a lot to take in. I need to think about it."

His father didn't press further, and for that, Luke was grateful.

"Very well."

"So what else do I have to learn?" Luke asked, hoping this session was over, so he could withdraw into his room.

His father considered him. "I think the time has come for your first field trial," he said, eventually.

Luke reared back in shock. "You mean you want me to attend a fancy party?"

"No. I have a meeting to attend tomorrow afternoon with a small number of people. You will accompany me. It will give you a chance to put your greeting skills into practice. And your posture," he added, eyeing the manner in which Luke was slouched in the chair.

Luke relaxed slightly. That didn't sound too hard. "What kind of meeting?"

"A mid-rim system, Abyssia, has long been isolated with no diplomatic ties. They are now in the final stages of becoming part of the Empire and joining the galactic community. The head of the member states induction office, Commander Darnell, will be giving a presentation on the upcoming proceedings. You can sit quietly and observe the meeting. That is all that will be required."

Luke nodded. "Okay. I can handle that. No problem."

* * *

At fourteen hundred the next day, Vader took a detour on his way to the meeting in order to retrieve his son. He found Luke down the hall from the dueling room, playing beep ball with Threepio.

"Hi," Luke called, as he walked through the doors.

"Greetings, sir," Threepio said, stopping the ball at his end.

"Luke, are you ready?" he asked, feeling impatient.

"For what? Are we going somewhere?" Luke asked, screwing up his face as if he was struggling to remember.

"Yes. You are accompanying me to a meeting in order to practice your social skills."

"Oh yeah!" Luke said. He put down the beep-ball bat and brushed off his clothes. He then ran his fingers through his hair, brushing his dangling fringe out of his eyes.

"Ready."

Vader studied his son. He was wearing a baggy shirt with a large letter 'L' printed on the front, and his pants had an excessive amount of pockets. Most of them were bulging with bits and pieces of wire Luke had collected over the last few days. One knee was stained with what looked like speeder fuel. In short, he looked like any random teenager from the streets of Coruscant, rather than the heir of a Dark Lord of the Sith. In that moment, Vader wondered if all the social lessons had been for nothing.

"Don't you have any formal clothes?" Vader asked, wearily.

Luke looked down at his attire and shrugged in a non-committal way. "What's wrong with these?"

"Go and put on something clean and tidy."

Luke sighed and mumbled under his breath as he trudged off towards the elevator. Despite the low tone, Vader quite clearly heard some derogatory reference to his own clothing choices.

Vader let out a slow breath and glanced back at Threepio, who had been watching the conversation with interest.

Becoming aware he had been noticed, the droid quickly discarded the ball and bat, and made to leave the room. "Good luck, sir," he said on his way past, servo motors clicking in the process. Vader stared after the droid, feeling suddenly anxious. _Good luck?_ Threepio always did have a tendency towards pessimism, but perhaps it was justified in this case.

Still feeling slightly unsettled, he made his way to the elevators to wait for Luke to emerge. When he did so, he was dressed in clean clothes, and had even made a partial attempt to comb his hair. Vader relaxed slightly and gestured for his son to follow him.

"So how long will this take?" Luke asked, walking quickly to catch up to him.

"It depends on how much they drag out the presentation with insignificant details," Vader said. "But it should be brief." He glanced at his son. "They know from past experience that I do not like having my time wasted."

"Even _I_ know that," Luke said, helpfully.

They entered another elevator in the middle of the palace, and Vader pressed the button for the upper level where the executive conference rooms were located. He stretched out to check his son's mood as they rode up, and was pleased to find him focused and relaxed.

"It is good that you are not nervous," Vader remarked.

Luke looked up at him in surprise. "Nervous? Why would I be nervous?"

"I did not say there is a reason for you to be nervous."

Luke continued to look at him curiously for a while, before dropping his gaze. He then began fidgeting with his sleeve, in a slightly anxious way. Vader looked away, silently berating himself for making such a remark.

"So how many people are going to be at this meeting?" Luke asked. "Just a few?"

"I believe the sector fleet admiral and his assistants will be there. The regional governor and his diplomatic advisor. The Grand Vizier."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't like me."

"He would like you more if you didn't use your hoverboard in the palace corridors."

Luke hid a smile.

Vader paused for a moment, and then added, "And the Emperor's aides and advisors."

"Why would they be there?"

"To aid and advise the Emperor, I would imagine."

Luke banged his hand down on the elevator controls, bringing it to an abrupt halt.

"Wait one minute! You never told me the _Emperor_ would be there!"

Vader turned to his son. "Why is that a problem? You have met the Emperor before."

"You wait until _now_ to spring this on me?! When we're nearly there?!"

"This is not a cause for alarm."

"Does he know I'm coming?"

"Yes. In fact, it was his idea for you to attend this meeting. He is aware that I have been training you in social matters."

"He probably just wants to laugh at me," Luke said, turning away. "He'll be watching for me to make a mistake."

"The Emperor has more important things to do than laugh at you. He is simply interested to see your progress, nothing more."

"I'm sure that's what he told you," Luke said, frowning.

Vader reached out and pressed a button to resume the elevator's journey.

"As long as you remember my instructions and behave yourself, everything will be fine."

Luke didn't acknowledge his words, and Vader glanced over. His son was clearly sulking.

 _Wonderful_ , he thought. He was about to take a sulking adolescent into a meeting with the most important individuals in the entire galaxy. Another part of being a father that nobody saw fit to warn him about before the fact.

The elevator made a positive beep, and the doors slid open, revealing a dark, high-ceilinged corridor. At the far end, a set of double doors were flanked by royal guards.

"Come on," Vader said, guiding Luke out of the elevator. As they walked towards the doors, an officer approached from a corridor to the right of the room. He paused at the entrance and bowed slightly in greeting. "Lord Vader."

"Admiral Reallis." Vader glanced around, and located his son trailing two meters behind him. "This is my son, Luke Skywalker."

Luke pleased him by immediately offering his hand to the admiral. "Hello," he said, his voice sounding reasonably steady.

"Pleasure," the admiral replied, shaking hands.

Vader gestured for the admiral to walk in ahead of him and then gently pushed Luke forward, patting his shoulder slightly to let him know he was pleased. He could only hope this would continue as well as it had started.

* * *

Luke did not know exactly what he expected from this meeting, but as soon as he walked in the door, he knew that what he expected was not what he saw.

The table was standard Imperial décor—round, and shiny black. The room, however, was huge. Luke was sure there was enough space in here for a nunaball pitch. The walls and floor were all black, but bright red Imperial banners were draped at various intervals along the walls, matching the tones of the royal guards.

He quickly scanned the table, taking in the occupants. The Emperor was flanked on one side by the Grand Vizier, Mas Amedda, and on the other by Governor Tarkin. Luke flinched at the sight of him, hoping he had forgotten about their 'introduction'. Grand Moff Halifax was beside him, who was the father of one of the girls in his year at school, Ophelia.

The seat closest to him was occupied by a cloaked man whose face was entirely hidden behind his hood. They were sitting so still, Luke wondered if they were really alive.

 _These_ were the people running the galaxy?

"Lord Vader," Tarkin said, from the table. "How nice to see your son looking a little more ... dressed."

His words caused some of the table's occupants to erupt into laughter, with the Emperor's cackle being by far the loudest. Luke flushed, his worst fears about the Emperor's motives in inviting him suddenly confirmed.

He was tempted to turn and leave the room right then, but his father placed a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards an empty seat. His father made no reply to Tarkin's remark and instead walked around the table, placing himself in the shadows behind the Emperor.

Once the Admiral and his assistant had taken their seats, another officer, Commander Darnell, began to deliver the presentation, assisted by a couple of droids. Luke was relieved the attention had finally been diverted from him. The first part was all about Abyssia's vast wealth and resources, and despite his anxiety at his company, Luke found parts of it interesting. Governor Tarkin had a number of questions about a particular type of mineral found on the planet's ocean floor, and how developed their mining industry was.

Then the presenter moved on to describing the planet's government, consisting of two legislative houses and a hereditary monarchy, and the recent economic and political instability which had led to a desire to open up trade.

"Without the Empire's protection, they are at real risk of falling prey to the Cresopty Clan, who have been funding armed resistance movements and promoting anti-royalist groups," Commander Darnell said. "They have recently had success in recruiting members on university campuses, resulting in a spate of bombing attacks on key state assets."

One of the droids changed the holographic view from a map showing the site of the bombings, to a sector map, and the commander outlined her initial plan for protecting the planet's new outgoing trade routes. Admiral Reallis had a number of questions during this part, and his assistant took notes.

Luke was hoping it would all be over once that was covered, but then the commander moved on to a holo showing a picture of an Abyssian.

"Abyssians are bipedal, averaging 1.7 meters in height, and show dramatic sexual dimorphism." The next diagram showed a male and female Abyssian side by side. They both had skin tones on the orange spectrum, with sharp cheekbones and large, oval shaped eyes. But the male face was surrounded by turquoise feathers, forming a shimmering mane.

"Skin tones range from an apricot to a deep ochre," the commander said, as the droid cycled through a number of pictures. "Male feather colours range between green, blue and red. Breeding occurs largely within monogamous pair-bonds arranged by the elder members of one's extended family. Relationships outside one's social and educational standing are highly discouraged, and any cross-species relationships are outlawed."

Luke couldn't help but glance at the admiral. He was clearly only part human himself, judging by the faint horizontal stripes on his face.

"However, they are understanding of the fact that it is not the case among most of our member states," she said, moving on to another image, which showed Abyssian children at various ages. "Children are prized and Abyssian fathers and mothers are known to be highly involved parents. The beginning of a child's adolescence is celebrated with lavish parties in which the young man or woman is introduced to society, and attends social gatherings outside of the family circle."

Luke cringed at the idea, feeling glad no such thing was on the agenda in his own future.

"The delegation sent to negotiate the terms for Abyssia's entry to the Empire was treated to many celebratory gatherings, however it was noted that there were no young people present. Our insider informed us this was because the Abyssians did not trust the Imperial delegation, and were fearful of making their children known to them. For this reason, we are hoping to have as many of our own children attend the opening of their embassy."

She gestured towards Luke, making him sink down in his seat. "Lord Vader has agreed to attend with his son."

Luke glanced at his father, wondering when he'd been planning to mention that to him.

"Governor Halifax, Admiral Reallis … I understand you both have daughters who might be available to attend."

"Oh, yes, you couldn't keep Ophelia away," Governor Halifax said, smiling.

"Please extend the invitation to all your assistant's children as well. The more the better. If we can show them we also value our children, and have no such qualms about trusting them with their names and faces, it will go a long way towards cementing our future relationship."

"You have sons, don't you, Lieutenant?" the admiral said to his assistant.

She smiled. "Yes, but it might be a mission to convince them to switch off the HoloNet and be seen in public with their mom."

"Just tell them their Empire needs them," Commander Darnell said, smiling at her. "And they'll be food. That's what I plan to tell my own teenagers."

The droid changed the viewscreen to show three upcoming events. The opening of the embassy, the installation of the Abyssian senator, and finally the treaty signing. The commander gestured to the final event. "We will know if we have succeeded if the king and queen allow the young prince and princess to attend the treaty signing celebration. So far, they have been entirely hidden and it is unknown what they look like or what their names are. Their attendance will be seen as the ultimate sign of trust."

Luke felt his stomach twist, hoping his father wasn't actually considering taking him to all these events. Just the thought made him want to hide under the table.

Commander Darnell opened up the meeting to questions, and there were several, all answered so thoroughly, Luke began to shuffle in his seat, wishing he could leave. It was a relief when the others began pushing back their chairs and standing up. The holo display flicked off, leaving only the black table. He was about to rush for the door, and then he realized everyone was remaining in place while the royal guards escorted the Emperor out.

The room instantly became lighter once he was gone. Luke glanced over at his father, who was currently discussing something with Governor Tarkin, and took a step towards him.

Then everything took a sickening lurch, and Luke felt himself tumbling towards the ground. He flailed desperately for something to stop his descent, but the nearest thing was the man wearing the cloak. Seeing that Luke was about to grab said cloak, he shifted away, causing Luke to fall the rest of the way, banging his head on a chair in the process.

The hood then came into view, looking somewhat fuzzy. He stretched out a gloved hand towards him.

"Are you all right?"

Luke felt a burst of anger. He'd just fallen over in front of a room of important people—of course he wasn't all right! Instead, he scrambled hastily to his feet. His last thought as he ran for the exit was relief that his father hadn't stopped him.

* * *

After finishing his conversation with Tarkin, Vader decided the next item on his agenda must be to check on his son. Doubtless the worst bruises were those to his self-esteem, but that was still quite a fall he had taken.

As predicted, he found his son lying on his bed, pillow jammed tightly over his face. He didn't acknowledge his presence until Vader forcibly removed the pillow and tossed it aside.

Luke shuffled up on his elbows, watching as he sat down beside him, on the edge of his bed.

"Are you going to disown me?" Luke asked, miserably.

"Why would I do that?"

"I completely ruined your meeting."

"You did not ruin anything, Son." He reached out to brush Luke's fringe back from his face and revealed a newly forming bruise. "You need to put some bacta gel on that bump, unless you want a purple forehead."

"I don't care," Luke said. "It's not like I'm ever leaving this room again."

Vader let out a weary breath and stood up to retrieve some medical supplies from the adjoining refresher.

"You do not need to feel embarrassed," he said, after returning with the correct tube.

"You're kidding, right? I fell over in front of all those people! They think I'm a joke!"

Vader reached up to gently swab some of the gel on Luke's temple, causing Luke to flinch slightly. Once he had finished, he put the tube of gel aside and studied his son.

"Luke, everybody in the room was an adolescent once. They no doubt remember a time when it feels like your limbs are outgrowing your body, and your sense of balance fails to compensate. This phase will not last long."

"I know you're just trying to make me feel better. But it's not going to work. You might as well just leave me alone to wallow in self-pity."

"You should know me well enough to know I don't give up so easily, young one."

"But it will be all over school next week! Governor Halifax will tell Ophelia, and she'll tell her friends, and they'll spread it further ..."

"So what? You should be above paying attention to mindless gossip."

"I can't help it!" Luke said. "It hurts when people laugh at you. Makes me feel like I'm nothing."

"You are very far from nothing. Your worth is not measured by what small-minded people choose to say about you."

Luke sighed. "Who was that guy next to me, anyway? Why did he keep his face hidden?"

"He is an ISB agent who has infiltrated the Abyssian royal family. Do not repeat that to anyone."

" _Infiltrated_ the royal family?" Luke said. "Aren't you supposed to be gaining trust?"

"Trust is always an illusion. It only invites betrayal."

Luke gave him a weary look, and then said, "You know, if i was this planet, I would be suspicious too."

"As you should be. But they will soon realize they stand to gain a great deal by participating in the Empire's vision for the galaxy. You will understand when you are older."

"Will I also understand how people like Governor Tarkin actually end up in charge?"

"Tarkin is a man of formidable leadership ability and many skills. Ignore his disrespect. He only makes such remarks because he can easily see how powerful you will be. He sees you as a threat to his own ambition."

"I'm not powerful."

"You will be."

Luke sighed, lying back. "I don't understand why people crave power so much. It just seems to make people busy all the time and bad tempered. I'd rather be out flying a star fighter than ruling the galaxy."

Vader felt uncomfortable at his son's words. Luke, in his innocence, had an irritating way of making very good sense without even trying. He decided to change the subject, before Luke convinced him to resign and fly off into the stars.

"Did you understand what will be expected of you at the embassy party?"

"No. No way am I ready for that," Luke said, sitting up again. "What if I trip again?"

"Luke, while you were living on Tatooine, did you ever learn to ride a dewback?"

"Of course!"

"And what did you do when you fell off? Give up?"

"No. I got back on."

"And if you fall over at the embassy party, you will pick yourself up and carry on. Understood?"

Luke started to reply angrily, but his voice squeaked. He groaned, falling back against the pillow again. "But I'm not fit to be seen in public," he protested.

Vader sighed, almost ready to agree with his son. The boy was drowning in a sea of puberty. If only humans were like other species in the galaxy, who simply withdrew into a cocoon for their adolescence. But then, being in a cocoon wouldn't do much for one's social development.

Vader thought back to Anakin's adolescence, trying to find some words of wisdom to help his son. Those had been difficult times—there was the eagerness to impress Obi-Wan and the other Jedi, desperately missing his mother, dreaming about ...

Padmé. There was an idea.

"You know, Son," Vader said, "when your mother was your age, she was ruling her planet."

Luke gaped at his father. "You're kidding!"

"No."

Luke considered it for a moment. "Well, I bet her voice wasn't breaking at the time."

"You are growing into an adult; that is all."

"I've been _growing_ for the last thirteen years," Luke said.

"There isn't yet much to show for it," Vader said, lightly.

Luke frowned.

"Do not glare at me," Vader said, pointing at his son. "It was not my genes."

"Obviously," Luke said. "So was my mother short?"

"Very."

Luke sighed.

"You have not finished growing yet. Do not worry yourself about this—whatever height you are is the right height."

Luke nodded, and Vader stood up.

"Now, I will leave you alone to—as you so accurately put it—wallow in self pity."

"Actually, I think I'll go see if Threepio is up for more beep ball," Luke said, sliding off the bed. "I feel like hitting something."

"Just make sure it is not your head this time," Vader said, unable to resist the opportunity.

"Oh, ha ha. You should quit the Empire and do stand up," Luke suggested, in a sarcastic tone which Vader found a little too familiar.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened here?!"

Luke pushed back his welding goggles and looked up at Lev, who had just entered the room. He and Threepio were sitting by a workbench, and Luke was attempting to fix the droid's arm, which was currently hanging uselessly. Artoo was nearby, beeping in concern for his friend.

"Slight beep ball accident," Luke explained.

"I'm designed for etiquette and protocol, not strenuous physical activity!" Threepio complained.

"He busted his arm trying to return one of my reverse-spin serves," Luke said, pushing his goggles down and resuming the welding. After a few seconds, he put the tool down. "There, good as new."

Threepio tested his arm, which made a loud squeak. Artoo whistled in amusement.

"Be quiet, you whistling tea kettle!" Threepio complained. "Oh no, my poor arm! I'll never be the same again!"

"You just need an oil bath!" Luke insisted.

The squeak suddenly became a groan and then the swinging arm jammed completely.

"Or maybe I should take another stab at fixing that ..."

Lev cleared his throat. "That's going to have to wait until later, Luke. You are attending an embassy party tonight and I believe you need something to wear."

"But it isn't until this evening, right?" Luke said. "Plenty of time!"

"Four hours. And your father said you have to get a haircut, too."

"There's nothing wrong with my hair!" Luke complained, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.

Lev chose not to reply.

Luke sighed and looked back at his droids. "Looks like Artoo is going to have to fix you, Threepio."

Artoo beeped happily, rolling forward and extending his welding pincer.

"Behave yourself, Artoo," Luke warned.

* * *

Three hours later, Luke arrived back at the palace with a shopping bag full of formal clothes and a haircut he didn't like.

"Why did they have to cut it so short?" Luke complained.

"You look fine," Lev said, following him into the elevator.

Luke ran his hands through what was left of his hair, trying to make it stick up. "Why did I ever agree to this?"

"You're going to have fun once you get there," Lev insisted. "Besides, it's nice of your father to take you to this. He isn't socially inclined himself, to put it mildly. I'm sure he'd rather be spending the evening slicing up dueling droids—but he's doing this for your sake."

Luke nodded. "I know. I just wish it was over already."

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors slid open on Luke's bedroom floor.

"Good luck, Luke," Lev said.

"Thanks," Luke said, stepping out of the elevator. "I'm gonna need it."

He tried to stall the actual task of getting ready until the last possible moment, and then rushed to get through the shower and put on the silly clothes. When he finally emerged from his bedroom, he found his father was pacing in the hallway.

"Finally," he said, coming to a halt in front of Luke. He reached over and brushed a piece of lint from his shoulder, straightened his collar, and then stepped back.

"I don't know what it is," he said, thoughtfully. "But you still look like an Outer Rim farmboy."

"Thank you for that esteem-booster," Luke said, frowning.

"It is of no consequence," Vader said, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving him onwards. "Perhaps I am merely biased. You know your upbringing is nothing to be ashamed of. Despite what certain people at this party might think."

Luke tugged at his collar uncomfortably as they entered the elevator. His father seemed to have a knack lately, for making him feel nervous while trying to do otherwise.

"What is wrong?" his father asked, as he began to straighten his tunic for the third time.

"Nothing," Luke said, his voice tight. "Just not used to wearing these clothes."

His father watched him for a moment. "The black suits you," he said finally.

"You _would_ say that," Luke said, breaking into a grin.

They stepped out into the hangar, and Luke followed his father to a waiting Imperial issue speeder. He was surprised when they walked straight past it, and on to the Kondero-V, a sports-style luxury speeder model, which wasn't available for public purchase until another month. His father was given a complimentary early model due to his connections with the manufacturers.

"We're taking this?" Luke said. "Wow!"

"I have been meaning to test it out," his father said, casually.

Luke eagerly climbed in and amused himself by playing with the voice-activated seat-adjust feature. When his father started the engine, it made a satisfying rumbling sound, alluding to the vast speeds this machine was capable of.

They accelerated out of the hangar and within seconds, were in the midst of the main traffic lanes. His father weaved around the slower vehicles with expert precision.

Luke couldn't stop grinning. "Why don't we just skip the party and see what this speeder can really do?"

"Perhaps afterwards," his father said, making a sharp right. The maneuvering thrusters instantly compensated.

Luke began to daydream about flying the speeder himself. Maybe if he was really good at the party, he could convince his father to give him a turn on the way home. Under Coruscant law, he couldn't get his speeder's license until he was fifteen, but he'd driven speeders on Tatooine as soon as his feet could reach the pedals. Besides, he was sure his father had been flying younger than he was now.

He eventually became aware his father was talking to him.

"... may be a few people from unusual species there ... perhaps some you have not seen before."

"I know not to stare."

"If people question you about your past, you are not obliged to answer them."

"Well, what do I say, then?" Luke asked.

"You can say you were living with an aunt and uncle, then you came to stay with me. No further details are required."

"What if they ask me about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"People at school are always asking me about your Force powers ... if it's true you can strangle people from far away and—"

"Do not answer any such questions. Change the subject. Discuss the weather."

"The weather? Are you serious?"

"Or what you intend to do with your life. Only don't tell them you wish to rule the galaxy."

"As though I'd say that," Luke said, rolling his eyes.

"And don't discuss politics ... and don't, under any circumstances, tell them what you think of the Emperor."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Not stupid, but often naïve," Vader said, dropping out of the main traffic lane.

Luke leaned over and looked down. He could see a stony white, palatial building, built on the roof of a seemingly bottomless skyscraper. He assumed that was the embassy. It was surrounded by a vast garden, and what looked to Luke like a swimming pool. Jutting out from the sides were landing zones, which were marked by blinking multi-colored lights. The vast number of luxury speeders parked down there indicated they were definitely at the right place.

His father brought the speeder down quickly, and then reversed into a space Luke could've sworn was too narrow. That fact was confirmed when Luke opened his door, only to have it hit the adjacent speeder.

"Whoops!" Luke said, squeezing out sideways to survey the damage. It was only a small mark, but it seemed to stand out on the otherwise immaculate paint job.

"Never mind," his father said from the other side, where incidentally, he seemed to have plenty of room. "That is an Axion-Lazerbolt—it was only released last week. If they can afford that, I can guarantee they can afford to have a scratch removed."

"Wow!" Luke said, shifting around the front of it to get a better look. "It's amazing! I heard about these!" Luke glanced from it to the Kondero-V. "Ours is still better though."

"I did not bring this speeder to show off," his father said, waving a finger at him.

"Yes you did," Luke said, finally tearing himself away from the Axion-Lazerbolt to join his father. "Come on, admit it."

A vast, marble staircase led to the entrance to the embassy, lined on both sides by alternating statues and fountains. This pattern continued all the way into the reception hall, culminating in a central fountain with a wide, triangular base deep enough to swim in. Three Abyssians stood in front of it, and they bowed deeply as they approached.

Luke stared around as the hosts gushed over his father, fascinated with the way the fountain caused the smudges of flickering light to appear all over the silvery walls and ceiling. All the Imperial buildings he'd visited were cold and efficient, but this place was designed with beauty in mind.

He could hear a live orchestra playing in a room off to the side and assumed that was where the main party was. He was just about to sneak off to have a look, when an Abyssian woman in an elaborate robe appeared in his field of vision.

"Your son!? How wonderful! What an honor to meet you!"

Luke blinked a few times, before managing to speak. "Hello."

The two others in the reception committee lined up to meet him. Luke, all too aware of his father's watching gaze, made sure to grip their hands properly when they offered them to shake. He must have done the right thing, because his father placed a hand on his shoulder, gently leading him on towards the main room.

Luke felt his throat become dry as they approached the doors, and he lagged behind. He had an image in his head of a huge, waiting crowd, who would all turn and stare directly at him. He briefly wondered how his father handled so much attention.

His father became aware he had fallen behind and looked back at him.

"Uh, I'm just going to use the refresher," Luke said. "I'll join you in a moment."

Luke expected his father to protest, but he simply nodded. "Very well. You do not have to join me when you return—find yourself some people your own age to socialize with. I do not expect you to spend your evening being polite to adults."

Luke grinned. "Okay."

His father disappeared up the stairs, clearly intending to observe from the balcony level, and Luke wandered off down a side corridor. Once satisfied that he'd let enough time pass between his father's entrance and his own, he returned to the main doors, and slipped in behind some Imperial officers in dress uniform.

The first thing he saw was a table serving drinks. He moved over quickly, taking in the rest of the room as he walked. There weren't as many here as he'd feared ... only a hundred or so. No one gave him a second glance as he weaved his way between the various groups of talking guests.

There were many exotic beverages available at the drinks table, but Luke decided to play it safe and stick with a glass of Juri Juice. He didn't want to end up sick—that would be worse than falling over.

As the droid poured him his drink, he overheard a familiar voice talking about luxury hotels. Ophelia. At least he knew one person already. He gathered his courage, and then sidled nonchalantly up beside her group.

"Hi," he said.

No one seemed to hear him.

"Hi," he repeated, louder.

Ophelia turned slightly. "Oh. Hello, Luke."

She continued her conversation with the two Chagrian girls, who were looking at Luke curiously. Luke wondered if they were related to the Grand Vizier somehow, but Ophelia didn't bother to introduce him. Luke felt awkward, wondering if it would be rude to ask. He knew people didn't like it when you assumed they were related to the one other person from their species that you happened to know.

Within a minute, his glass was empty. The conversation lulled, and Luke spoke up, trying to be helpful.

"Um, I'm going to refill my glass," Luke said. "Can I get anyone anything?"

He was answered only by blank stares.

"Just get a droid to go," one girl said, in a lightly derisive tone.

"Oh," Luke glanced around and saw the reflective silver serving droids. The nearest one was twenty meters away. He considered calling it, and then decided he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Everyone remained silent, watching him. Luke was saved when another boy approached the group. Luke thought he recognised him from the senior year at school. Kart or Jark, some name like that.

"Hello," he said. The others smiled at him. He glanced at Luke.

"Oh, it's you," he said, pleasantly enough. "I didn't think you came to things like this. Wait … does this mean your _father_ is here?!"

Luke nodded, wondering what the big deal was.

"Could you introduce me?"

"Are you insane?" Ophelia said, rolling her eyes at the older boy. "What makes you think you're worthy of his time?"

"Uh, has anyone seen any Ab-si-ans … uh, any young people from this planet," Luke interrupted, trying to change the subject.

"No, fortunately," one of the Chagrian girls said. "I was dreading the idea we'd actually have to speak to them. They seem really primitive."

The boy laughed. "I heard the planet is a real hole. Nothing but farms and everyone hates outsiders. The Emperor must be planning to mine it."

It didn't go past Luke that everyone here would talk the same way about Tatooine given half a chance. From what he'd seen in the meeting, Abyssia was far wealthier and more developed than Tatooine. He shifted away, deciding to go and fill up his drink himself, despite what the others thought. Over by the table, he saw a different group of young people. Maybe he should try his luck with them. As he walked closer, he began to overhear the conversation.

"... they act like they're royalty."

"I've heard they won't even say hello unless they see their parents talking to your parents first."

Luke was about to turn away, when he was spotted.

"Hello," a girl said. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Abi Reallis."

"Uh, hi," Luke said, warming at the friendly greeting. He moved closer to the group, which consisted of three people, Abi and two other boys. "I'm Luke. You must be Admiral Reallis daughter." She had the faint stripes across her face, just like he did.

"Yes, you know my father?"

"I … I met him last week," Luke said, hoping he wouldn't have to explain how he came to be meeting an Admiral. He looked at the boys, and Abi introduced them.

"This is Bohai and Zhang. Their mom is one of my Dad's top lieutenants."

"Oh, I hear you guys would rather be watching the HoloNet," Luke said, smiling. "So would I."

The brothers both looked at each other and then back at Luke. "Are your parents on the _Guardian_?" Bohai asked.

Luke assumed the _Guardian_ must be Admiral Reallis' flagship. It was tempting just to lie and say yes, but perhaps he could muddle through this somehow. "No, I … long story."

"Did you get ignored by Ophelia and her loyal subjects, did you?" Abi asked, nodding over in Ophelia's direction.

Luke shrugged, not wanting to get drawn into someone else's feud. There was an awkward silence, and Luke quickly tried to think of something he could ask.

"Where do you go to school, Abi?" Luke asked, fairly certain that he'd never seen her at the private local school he attended.

"I have a private tutor," Abi said. "I moved around a lot growing up as my father was posted in different places, so school was never practical for me. We've been on Coruscant for six months now, so maybe I should try it."

"So have you been to Abyssia?" he asked.

"Not yet," she said. "I'll probably be visiting after the actual treaty is signed and Abyssia becomes an Imperial territory. I have been to Butangdor—that's Abyssia's neighbour."

"We've been there too," Zhang said. "They have the largest spider-webs I have ever seen. Bigger than this room, even, but made by a spider smaller than a one credit coin."

"Really?" Luke asked, trying to imagine it. "You saw one?"

"Yes, but only in a zoo. We went there for a vacation last year."

"I wish I got to travel more," Luke said. "But my father is always so busy."

"I know what you mean," Zhang said. "I have to force my father to take a break sometimes."

Luke grinned. He was starting to actually connect with these people. Made for a pleasant change. He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, when an adult came up behind Abi. It took Luke a second to realize it was the admiral, now in dress uniform.

"Did you try the fruit pies yet?" he said to Abi. "Almost as good as your grandmother can make. I'm trying to find out what they call the fruit."

"No, because Ophelia has been hogging the serving droid," Abi said, pointing. "Can you tell it to come here?"

Her tone was less polite request and more demand, but her father didn't seem phased by her tone. "How about I bring you a selection myself?" he suggested.

"And a glass of wine?"

"No wine. Not even Ophelia is allowed to drink wine yet, I'm sure." He had glanced at Luke briefly when he arrived, but now he looked again, and a flash of recognition crossed his face.

"Oh, hello. I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

Luke glanced down, and then remembered all his father's instructions about looking people in the eye when speaking to them. He forced himself to stand up straight. "Luke Skywalker."

"So you don't share your father's family name? Is Skywalker your mother's name?"

"I … uh … it's complicated," Luke said, looking down.

"Why, who is his father?" Abi said, glancing up at her father. "One of your officers?"

"No, this is Lord Vader's son," the admiral said. "I met him at the Imperial Palace last week."

Bohai and Zhang both stared at him like they'd just been told he was a flesh-eating zombie, and then turned and quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving Luke alone with the admiral and his daughter. Abi was staring at him with a wide-eyed expression of utmost surprise. He did his best not to look down, but he could feel his face turning red.

"Is your father here?" the admiral asked, oblivious to the embarrassment he'd just caused. "I haven't seen him."

"I … maybe he had to leave," Luke said. "I … excuse me, I'm going to try one of those pies."

As he walked away, he clearly heard Abi asking her father why he hadn't 'warned her' earlier. Feeling terrible, he refilled his glass for the third time, and decided to go and find his father. There was no point attempting to be subtle about their relationship now. Maybe he was having an equally bad time and would give in if he begged to leave.

He climbed up the stairs and walked over until he was standing beside his father. He was talking to an Abyssian who was wearing a military uniform.

"Ah, is this your son, Lord Vader?" the woman asked.

His father looked over at Luke and placed a hand on his shoulder, shifting him forward. "Yes. Luke, this is General Rohanna, head of the Abyssian army."

"Are you enjoying the party, young man?" the general asked, smiling at him.

Luke inwardly fumed at the patronizing tone. "Not really," he said, before he had time to think

The general was silent for a moment, and then she laughed.

"What happened?" his father asked, sounding anything but amused at Luke's reply.

Luke swallowed. "Uh ... nothing, I meant ... I didn't mean ... I'm just a little tired, that's all," Luke said, desperately trying to cover.

"It is only 20-hundred," his father said.

"I know ... well, I had a busy day."

"You slept in until the afternoon, as I recall." His father still sounded annoyed.

The general laughed again, sounding a little forced. "I remember when I was young enough to get away with that."

Luke frowned again, and his father gave him a push towards the main party.

"Go and find someone else to talk to."

"But—"

"Go," his father said, firmly.

Luke shifted away, reluctantly. There was no way in the galaxy he was talking to anyone else. Maybe he could go for a walk. He made his way down to the main floor and wandered out into the hallway. After exploring for a while, he found a corridor lined with holo-pictures. They were all repeating endless cycles of movement.

Luke walked down the line, past rows and rows of portraits. He assumed they were historical Abyssian kings and queens. One painting in particular caught his eye—it was a view looking down a wide river. Long, thin water mammals swam along the side. It looked so beautiful, so peaceful ... so different from Coruscant, or Tatooine. He could only imagine what it would be like to live in such a beautiful place.

Conversation drifted down the hall behind him, and Luke quickly ducked inside a room, pressing himself against the wall. He could hear two people approaching, talking in hushed tones.

"What is his interest in these proceedings, I wonder? And Governor Tarkin as well. Is the Emperor anticipating some kind of trouble?"

Luke recognized Admiral Reallis' voice. When his companion replied, he also picked out Governor Halifax, Ophelia's father.

"These backward planets always cause trouble. No, I suspect they are still trying to secure more resources for Krennic's little project. The Force knows what they're building to require this much effort, but ours is not to question."

"I have to say, I was surprised to learn he has a son."

"Oh, yes. Came to live with him a little over a year ago now. He goes to school with my daughter."

"It's the strangest thing." The admiral's tone became quieter, and they stopped walking and paused right beside the open door. Luke put his arm over his mouth, hoping they couldn't hear him breathe. "He tells me his family name is Skywalker. I served during the Clone Wars. That name was legendary among the ranks. He looks like him, too."

"You're not the first to notice that," the governor said, sounding amused. "I was speaking to Tarkin about it last week, and he said he'd bet good money the boy is the son of the Jedi Skywalker."

"So he took a Jedi's child?"

"So it seems. Years ago, I had heard the Inquisitors were taking Force sensitive children and training them to kill Jedi, but as far as I'm aware, that project ended as Jedi numbers dwindled. Perhaps Vader saw some promise in that one and decided to adopt him."

There was amusement in the admiral's reply. "I can't imagine Lord Vader being the type to adopt a child. Everything I've heard would suggest the opposite."

"Yet, here we are. I can't help but wonder if Vader intends to train him as a Sith heir once he is a little older, and then use him to stage a coup. This 'son' facade could be a ploy to keep the Emperor's guard down."

"I'm not sure it's appropriate to speculate about such a thing," the admiral said, sounding anxious at the direction the conversation had taken. "No one could question Lord Vader's loyalty to the Emperor."

"Forgive me, Admiral. You are correct, of course."

Luke looked down at his hands, and realized they were shaking. Outside, he heard footsteps as the men began to walk on. But the admiral had one more question.

"What did become of the Jedi Skywalker, I wonder? I never did hear. I can't imagine him betraying the government."

"I asked Tarkin the same question. He knew Skywalker personally. He said Lord Vader is consistent on the subject."

There was a pause, which felt like hours to Luke, but it was only mere seconds.

"Anakin Skywalker is dead. He killed him himself. In fact, he was one of the Jedi who came to the Chancellor's office."

The admiral replied, but they had moved too far away for Luke to make out his words. It didn't matter though—he had heard enough.

* * *

Half an hour later, Vader opened the door of the Kondero-V speeder, to find his son hunched up inside. He was listening to music over the speeder's comm system, and did not acknowledge his arrival.

"So this is where you have been hiding."

His son didn't reply. He turned away from him.

Vader considered dragging his son back to the party, but he quickly discarded the idea. His son had lasted two hours—that was enough for a first attempt. At any rate, he'd exceeded his own social limit for one evening.

After climbing into the pilot's seat and starting the engine, he reached over to switch off the music. Luke didn't react to the loss of his entertainment, which surprised Vader. He had been anticipating some kind of protest. He glanced over at his son, curiously. Perhaps he had fallen over again. Nothing would surprise him.

Vader guided the speeder into a traffic lane, and then used the mental bond he shared with his son to analyze the boy's feelings. He was miserable ... confused ... preoccupied with something.

"Did you fall over again?" he asked, eventually.

Luke didn't reply.

"Did somebody offend you?"

Luke didn't even acknowledge the words.

Vader decided to leave him be. He had no time for moody, sulking teenagers. If his son wouldn't speak his mind, he wasn't going to press the issue. No doubt he would tell him when he was ready.

He focused on the slow-moving traffic for a minute, before having a sudden change of heart. This was all a lot to take for a Tatooine farm boy, after all.

"Would you like a turn at piloting?" he asked. He could let Luke reverse it into a parking space, at least, once they reached the hangar.

"I'd rather just go home," Luke said, in a muffled whisper.

Vader wondered if he'd heard correctly. Ever since his son had moved in, Luke had begged him for the chance to fly at every possible opportunity. And now, when he finally offered, Luke turned him down?

"Are you sick? If so, I will take you to a doctor."

"No."

Vader clenched his hands around the controls. When they landed, his son was going to spell out exactly what was wrong, whether he felt like it or not.

Luke had other ideas, however. As soon as they touched down, he opened the door and ran for the elevator.

Vader let out a weary breath as he stared after his hastily retreating son. Perhaps it was better to leave it until tomorrow. No doubt his son would be more cooperative after a good night's sleep.

* * *

"It sounds stupid, if you ask me," Ben said.

Luke rubbed his eyes, his lack of sleep catching up with him. He'd been awake half the night, his mind unable to stop thinking over everything he'd heard.

"Why?" Luke asked, taking a bite from his lunch. "You don't think he's capable of it?"

Ben looked thoughtful for a moment. "But why would he tell you you're his son if you're not?"

"To get my loyalty."

"But think about it. Let's say you really were just some orphaned farmboy from the Outer Rim. Wouldn't you be ten times more loyal if he took you in and looked after you, even though you were no relation to him?"

"But Ben," Luke said, "we have nothing in common. _Nothing_!"

"I wouldn't say that," Ben said, grinning.

Luke threw a sandwich crust. Ben caught it. "See! You've got a temper just like him."

Luke forced himself to calm down. "My temper is nothing like his. If something annoys him—he destroys it! Besides … my uncle always said my father was dead. Why would he have lied to me for all those years?"

Luke slumped down on the lunch table, resting his head in his arms. Maybe all his wishing and dreaming for a father had caused him to overlook the glaring inconsistencies and just accept what he was told for fact. It was a horrible feeling. The person he'd become so easily attached to—the person he'd accepted as his father—was he really only using him for his own political gain?

"Why don't you ask him then?" Ben suggested. "Go to him and ask him straight."

"I can't," Luke said. "What if it's true?"

"Wait a minute, I'm confused," Ben said. "Do you want it to be true, or not? A moment ago you were insisting you were nothing alike."

Luke looked aside, struggling with his conflicted feelings. Of course he didn't want it to be true! He wanted him to be his father ... didn't he?

But then, if he wasn't his father ... he would never have to see the Emperor again. Or Tarkin, for that matter. And he wouldn't have to force himself to fit in with all these power-hungry people ...

Luke enjoyed the thought for a moment, until he began to feel guilty. He'd been living with Vader for two years now, and during that time, he had cared for him while he was sick, rescued him when he was in danger, and spent countless hours simply ... being his father. Was he really so ungrateful that he wanted it all to be a lie?

He groaned in frustration. "This is all so confusing."

"I don't see why. Do you want him to be your father?"

Luke rested his chin on his elbow, and considered the question. "I don't know," he said, finally.

"Well do you like him?"

"Do you like your father?"

"Occasionally," Ben said with a chuckle. "I do love him, though."

"Because he's your father," Luke said. "But if he wasn't related to you, would you still love him then?"

"Sure," Ben said. "He'd still be my father, even if we weren't related by blood. There's more to being a father than simply sharing genes, right?" He gestured across the lunchroom to a girl sitting near the snack drink station. "Look at Dali. She's not even the same species as her adoptive parents, but they're always here for every school event."

Luke fidgeted with a food wrapper, considering it. "That's different," he said, finally. "Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru weren't my blood relatives, but they were my family. And if he wasn't related to me, but he'd said he knew my parents and wanted to adopt me, maybe we could have made that work. But that's not what happened, if what I heard is true." Luke swallowed. "He killed my father. He killed Anakin Skywalker, and then pretended to be him because he wants to use me to take over the Empire. That's not what a real father would do."

Luke tossed his lunch on the bench, no longer feeling hungry.

"We argue all the time," Luke added, suddenly. "He's always complaining about everything I do. He thinks I'm reckless, stubborn and impatient. I think he's bad tempered, cold and emotionally challenged. He forces me to be polite to the Emperor, even though he knows he's pretty much evil incarnate. Now he's making me go to boring Imperial social gatherings."

Luke paused for a moment. "And ... and I really thought that deep down, _very_ deep down, he really did care about me."

"You don't know that he doesn't," Ben said. "And maybe Ophelia's father has it all wrong. Maybe your father just said he killed Anakin Skywalker because he doesn't want anyone to know he used to be a Jedi."

"If only there was some other way," Luke said, banging the table. "Some way I could find out the truth without having to ask him straight."

"How about we start with the library?" Ben suggested.

"The library? How will that help?"

"Let's try and find out more about this famous Jedi called Anakin Skywalker," Ben said, grinning. "I bet we can find something that proves he is Lord Vader."

Ben always thought the library contained the answers to everything, but Luke had to admit, it was an idea.

"All right. Let's go after class."

* * *

Luke alternated between hovering over Ben's shoulder, and pacing around in circles, while his friend accessed multiple NewsNet databases on one of the library terminals.

"Are you sure this is the right spelling?" Ben asked, eventually.

Luke paused from staring at a droid carrying a large stack of databooks, and leaned over to look at the terminal screen.

"Yes."

"This is so weird. There's nothing. No birth record. No marriage. No death. He's never mentioned by name in thousands of Clone Wars news archives. It's like he didn't exist."

"He did exist! I have a holo of him and my mother on their wedding day."

"Are you sure it's him?"

Luke considered it. He wasn't really sure about anything anymore ... not after what he'd heard.

Ben changed screens. "But it's the same for Lord Vader. He doesn't start showing up in news archives until about a month after the Empire was founded. I wonder if the Imperial Security Bureau removed everything."

"They're in on this," Luke said, frowning.

"It's probably because it's impossible to find anything about Jedi," Ben said. "They consider it subversive. Maybe we could try the library at the Imperial Palace."

"No. He might find out I'm looking into his past, then," Luke said. He frowned, and nudged his friend out of the way. "Let me try something." He filled in a search record for Owen Lars located on Tatooine. Within seconds, he had his uncle's face and details on the screen.

"Your uncle?"

Luke nodded. "Here's my aunt," he said, following a link to a marriage record. Record keeping was sketchy on Tatooine, but the government office would occasionally conduct a census. He felt an old pain stir at the sight of their faces.

"According to this, they had no nephews or nieces," Ben said, reading the notes. "No adopted children, either."

"This is crazy," Luke said. "Someone has been tampering with these records. I know _I_ definitely exist, and I wasn't a Jedi." Luke frowned. "Why would someone go through and remove all references to me and my father? Unless someone had something to hide ..."

Ben didn't reply.

Luke pushed back his chair. "I'm going home."

* * *

Luke took the long route back to the palace, deciding he needed the time to think. The visit to the library had left his head spinning with even more questions than he'd entered with. He was beginning to realize that it was no good pretending any longer. The odds had been stacking up steadily against him ever since he'd first heard the governor's whispered words.

It was time he faced the truth. He was not the real son of Darth Vader—he never had been! He was Luke Skywalker, farmboy, orphan, nothing and nobody special. His own wishing and hoping for a father had caused him to be easily fooled into believing a carefully planned lie. A lie he'd enjoyed living, but a lie, none the less.

That only left the question of what he was going to do now.

Luke kicked a piece of scrap metal in frustration. It was times like this he wished he were older. Thirteen was a lousy age. Old enough to discover that adults didn't always tell you the truth, but young enough to have to depend on them. It wasn't as though he had anywhere else to go.

Luke gazed around at the ever darkening walkway, fearful at the thought of being left to make his own way on this grim and ruthless planet. That would be the only option left for him, if he revealed that he had discovered the truth.

He walked on quickly, eager to get back. As he reached the first security checkpoint to enter the Imperial Palace, he looked up at the vast, spired building. He lived in luxury here—all the food he needed, a large bedroom with his own holovid, and a vast hangar full of ships and droids to tinker with. Did it really matter that he was living a lie? He could bide his time, at least until he was old enough to move out.

Luke passed through the security barrier, nodding at the guards as they waved him through. When he entered the main palace elevator hub, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned, seeing his father approaching. Judging by the direction, he'd just come back from IMH.

"Hello, Son," he said, joining him to wait for an elevator. "How was school?"

Luke stared at him for a moment, before dropping his gaze. He mumbled something unintelligible.

"I see."

A chime signaled the arrival of the elevator, and Luke entered first, with his father close behind. Luke found himself staring at his father again, as they began to travel upwards. It was strange ... even after what he'd found out, he still couldn't think of him as anything other than his father. It was almost certain it was a lie, and yet ... how could this man address him as his son so casually, when they were no more related than a pair of rocks? Luke narrowed his eyes, feeling betrayed. He had exploited his most vulnerable emotions ... the longing of an orphan for his father. How could he be so cruel?

Vader suddenly became aware of his staring, and turned to face him. Luke quickly turned away, but he was a fraction too slow. His gaze had been seen.

The elevator came to a sudden halt, although they were between floors.

"What is it?"

"Nothing!" Luke said, pressing the elevator buttons in a vain attempt to get it moving again.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

"Why do you think that?" Luke asked, looking at the floor.

"Then what is it? You have been acting like this ever since we left the party, yesterday. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened!" Luke insisted. "I'm just a little tired, okay?"

Vader stared at him for another few seconds, but Luke refused to meet his gaze. Eventually, he stood back and the elevator resumed its journey. Once they reached their destination, Luke walked ahead, eager to get to the relative safety of his bedroom.

He hadn't realized how hard this was going to be. Every second he spent in Vader's presence, he was constantly fighting the urge to shout and yell and demand to know why he'd been led to believe a lie for so long. How long could he hold out? Any moment he could snap and damn himself to life as an orphan, once again.

Avoidance was the only way he was going to get through this. It would be tricky, considering they lived together, but it was entirely possible—Vader's busy schedule saw to that. But the trick here was not only avoiding Vader, but making sure it didn't look obvious. He was already suspicious enough—he could only hope he would let this issue go.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

The Force was a mysterious thing. Vader had devoted his life to its study, yet there was much of it which still remained elusive. Such as why his son's bad moods had such an intrusive effect on him.

He was browsing through a fleet activities report, yet none of it was staying in his mind. All he could think about was his son. Two days had passed since the embassy party, and the boy still had not recovered from whatever trivial event had caused him to enter this childish sulk.

Vader tapped his fingers on the armrest, wondering whether he should seek professional help for Luke. This had gone well beyond normal adolescent behavior ... hadn't it? Vader thought back to Anakin's teenage years, trying to remember any equivalent event which might shed some light on what his son was going through. There was that time he'd accidentally lost a lightsaber down a stormwater drain. Obi-Wan had accused him of doing it on purpose, and he'd been so offended, he'd been moody and sulky for the better part of two days.

Ridiculous, now, looking back on it. But normal for a teenager. The only thing missing from the equation with Luke was the reason for his reaction.

His computer beeped loudly, pulling Vader out of his thoughts. He swiveled his chair around and opened the newly arrived message. It was an automated reminder about a meeting with a team of negotiators, handling the finer details of Abyssia's entry to the Empire. It was starting in five minutes. He was not required to attend, but he was better there, than sitting here dwelling on his son and his trivial problems.

On the other hand, Vader thought, as he left the meditation room, his son's social training couldn't go on hold, simply because he happened to be going through a phase. He opened Luke's bedroom doors and glanced inside. There was no sign of his son, but then, Luke had been avoiding this part of the palace. He was at home though, Vader could sense that much.

He followed his sense down to the lower levels, to an out of the way conference room near the ship hangar. Luke was sitting at the table, working at a portable terminal. He looked up when Vader entered, and then quickly resumed his work.

Vader sat down opposite, observing him. A few minutes of silence passed, before Luke finally looked up in annoyance.

"What?!"

"I am going to a meeting upstairs. You will join me."

"I've got homework to do," Luke protested. "This history essay is due tomorrow."

Vader considered it. "Very well," he said, eventually. "Your education must come first."

Luke resumed working on his essay and didn't spare him another glance, until it became clear he was not about to leave. When his son met his gaze again, Vader saw something in those pale blue depths which made him even more curious. Fear. His son was afraid ... but of what, was anyone's guess.

"Why are you hiding down here?" Vader asked. "Instead of working at the desk in your room?"

Luke shrugged. "I needed a change of scene."

Vader decided a direct approach might be best. "Are you trying to avoid me?"

Luke frowned. "You're never here, anyway. Why would I need to avoid you? It happens anyway."

Vader leaned back, feeling relief. "So that is it."

"What's it?" Luke asked.

"The reason why you have been acting so moody and secretive. I have not been spending enough time with you."

"I have not been moody and secretive!" Luke said. "And you've been spending too much time with me on these pointless social lessons!"

"So you would prefer we spent some time in the hangar working on a restoration project?"

Luke made a noise that was half-groan, half-sigh. "Will you please leave me alone? I'm trying to work."

Vader stood up. "Very well, Son. But if you want my attention, you only need to ask. You do not need to leave me guessing as to why you are upset."

Luke only glared at him in response, and Vader decided to do as he wished, and leave him alone. His son was obviously too proud to admit he wanted his father's attention and angry he had seen through his attempts to disguise it.

Perhaps teenagers were not so hard to understand, after all.

* * *

After the brief conversation in the conference room, Luke found avoiding his supposed father quickly became twice as difficult. Vader had, for some unfathomable reason, become convinced his mood was because he wasn't getting enough attention.

A week ago, he would have been delighted to get more positive attention from his father—but it was just his luck, that at the one time he was desperate to avoid him, he was doing his best to spend every spare moment he had with him.

On one evening, Luke found himself eating his dinner by the light of a glow rod, in the back of a storage compartment. His only companions were deactivated cleaning droids and spiders, but this had to be better than accepting his father's invitation to eat in his presence. Although it had sounded more like an order than an invitation, and his mumbled excuses were sounding increasingly desperate.

He swallowed his last mouthful and crawled back out into the corridor. As peaceful as it was in there, he had homework, and his homework was in his bedroom. If he was quick and quiet, he could retrieve it, and disappear, before Vader even got a whiff of his imminent arrival.

Luck wasn't on his side, though. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, it wasn't hard to see that there was no reaching his bedroom doors, without first staving off some well-intentioned offers.

"Hello, Son," Vader said, as he approached.

Luke remained quiet and attempted to dodge past.

"I am going to test out the engine adjustments on the Kondero-V," he continued. "Would you like to join me?"

"Uh ... there's a good show on holovid tonight," Luke said, finally succeeding in ducking past him.

"Do you expect me to believe you would rather watch holovid than come for a speeder-ride?" Vader asked.

"And I've got homework," Luke mumbled, entering his bedroom. He immediately shut and locked the doors—not that locks would stop a Sith Lord, if he really wanted to get in, but it was more the sentiment than the actual barrier.

He sat down on his bed, suddenly aware that he was sweating. He watched the doors nervously, wondering whether Vader was going to barge in and demand to know what was wrong with him. He was painfully aware that his patience was on an ever-shortening fuse. Sooner or later, he was going to snap, if he didn't do so first.

The doors remained closed, however, and Luke soon relaxed. He was safe for tonight, at least. He settled down to work on his homework, but his peace only lasted fifteen minutes. The sound of his door-comm caused him to jump in fright. Maybe this was it ...

But it was Lev on the other side. It was only a partial relief.

"Oh," Luke said. "Hi."

He stood aside to let Lev enter.

"Hi, Luke. I was just going off shift, and I thought I'd stop by and see how things were going."

Luke folded his arms, refusing to be pacified with a casual tone. "Did _he_ send you?"

Lev looked like he was going to deny it, but then he nodded.

Luke turned away, annoyed. "You're wasting your time."

"Listen, Luke, he's very worried about you. He'd have to be to ask me to intervene. He hates admitting to having any kind of problem he can't handle—least of all one with his own son."

"He's not worried," Luke said. "He just can't stand the fact that I have something I'm keeping from him. He's allowed to keep all the secrets he wants ... but when it comes to me? No, I have to tell him everything. It's not fair!"

"But how is your father supposed to apologize if he doesn't know what he's done to upset you?"

"I don't want him to apologize," Luke said, inwardly flinching at the sound of the word 'father'. "I just want to be left alone."

Lev sighed. "How about this—why don't you tell me what happened. I won't share it with your father, if you don't want me to, but I think you should tell someone at least—just to get a second opinion."

Luke considered it. He'd like to tell Lev ... but could he really trust him not to tell his father? It was a pretty big secret after all. He didn't know if he would trust himself in Lev's position. No, it was safer to leave it as it was.

"I can't tell you," Luke said. "You'd have to tell my father."

Lev was silent for a few moments, and then he nodded. "All right. But I can't go back to him with nothing, at any rate. Are you sure there's nothing you want to say to him?"

Luke considered it. Actually, there was something ...

"Okay. Tell him I want to live my own life. I don't want his attention and I don't want to spend time with him."

"Very well."

"And I want to change rooms," Luke said, suddenly on a roll. "I'm too close to where he is. I want to be over the other side of the palace."

"I think I'm seeing a pattern here," Lev said.

"Just tell him."

* * *

After a restless night, full of strange dreams about floating in a vast, empty space, Luke found himself late and rushing to get ready for school. As he slung his school sack over his shoulder and left his bedroom, he found himself face-to-chest with Vader.

"Can't talk—late—" he mumbled, trying to sidestep.

His father had him trapped, though, like a gunner with an X-Wing in his sights. He placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him with a single grip.

"You may not have time to talk, but you _will_ listen."

Luke relented and stifled the urge to struggle.

"I understand you want to live your own life. It is natural to desire more independence at your age. There is no need for all this hostility."

Luke nodded, looking away.

"If you need space, I will give it to you. You only need to ask."

"Sure. Can I go now?" Luke asked, tonelessly.

"And I am sorry if this social training has made you feel as if I am trying to control your life. I am only trying to do what is best for you."

Luke blinked in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard him apologize. It was typical of his luck recently that it was an apology for the wrong thing.

Vader suddenly released his grip and stepped aside. Luke ran for the elevator, glad to escape, even though that particular confrontation had been relatively painless. At least he'd succeeded in getting Vader to leave him alone. But was that what he _really_ wanted? Wasn't there a part of him that wanted Vader to know that he knew the truth? To know that he no longer believed his lies? But what would happen then?

The questions went round and round his head as he ran to school, leaving him out of breath by the time he arrived in class. His teacher didn't bother to question his lateness, and Luke was grateful. It didn't get past his friend, though.

"What happened to you?" Ben asked, as they walked to their next class.

Luke mumbled something vague.

"You still haven't asked him, huh?"

Luke sighed. "Whenever I'm around him, I just can't stop thinking about all the lies."

"Assuming it is lies."

"Well, somebody is lying," Luke said.

"I still think you should—"

"For the last time! I'm _not_ asking him!"

"I just don't understand why you're so convinced. Sure, it's strange someone deleted his name out of the news archives, but maybe there's another explanation. And I can't believe you would take something some governor said so seriously."

"He wasn't just some governor. This is Ophelia's father … and he was repeating what Governor Tarkin had told him."

"So … supposedly Lord Vader told Governor Tarkin that he killed your father. Then Governor Tarkin told Governor Halifax. Then you overheard Governor Halifax … isn't it possible something got misunderstood?"

"Forget it," Luke sighed.

"Okay. But I have another idea."

"I'm not telling him."

"It doesn't involve telling him. Go ask your doctor."

"What would he know?"

"DNA. He can do a DNA test."

"D-N- what?"

"That's how you test whether you're related to someone or not. Everyone carries pairs of chromosomes inside their cells—half from your father and half from your mother. They can do a test to see whether your DNA matches Lord Vader."

"Are you sure about this?" Luke asked, skeptically. The thought of having half his father's chromosomes floating around in his cells was more than a little weird.

"Of course I am. Don't you pay attention in science class?"

* * *

After school, Luke made his way to the medcenter in the senate office building. Unfortunately, his lack of prior appointment meant he ended up waiting well over an hour to see his doctor. During that time, he tried to think of a story to explain his odd request. He couldn't let on how much was really at stake over this. It had to sound natural, like this was a request any teenager might make on any given day.

When his turn came around, he strolled through into his office with his hands in his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible.

Doctor Leeson smiled in recognition. "Hello, Luke. I haven't seen you in a while. Been staying out of trouble?"

"As much as possible," Luke said, sitting down in the patient chair beside his desk.

"What can I do for you today?"

"Well," Luke said, taking a deep breath, "I was wondering if you could do a DAN test for me."

"A DAN test?" the doctor repeated.

"Wait, that's not it." Luke thought back. "It's something else ... uh ... it's to do with chromosomes ... for finding out if you're related to someone."

His doctor laughed. "Ah—a DNA test. Who is the other person you wish to test?"

Now that it came down to it, Luke suddenly wondered if this was a good idea. What if his doctor insisted on informing his father?

"This is entirely confidential, right?" Luke asked. "You won't tell anyone else about this?"

"I can't do a check on someone else's DNA without their consent," Doctor Leeson explained.

"Oh," Luke said, standing up. "Forget it then. It wasn't that important, anyway."

"Hold on ... this isn't about your father, is it?"

Luke quickly sat down again. "How did you know?"

"Well, let's just say you're not the only person in this room to ever wonder if they truly were related to their father. Parents can be downright weird sometimes. I should know, I am one."

Luke grinned. "You're not so weird. You don't have a lightsaber, for one thing."

"Ah, you'd be surprised," his doctor replied. "Now what makes you think you're not really related to your lightsaber-carrying father?"

Luke shrugged. "It's a lot of things. Someone said they heard him say he actually killed my father. And I couldn't find any information about him in the library. It's like someone didn't want me to know."

"The Imperial Security Bureau does keep information about certain people under tight control. Have you asked him about it?"

"No. I don't want him to know I heard this, in case it's true. That's why I thought ... if I could just know for sure ..."

"I think I can put your mind at ease, Luke." His doctor was entering something into his computer terminal. "Yes, here it is."

"Here what is?" Luke asked, sitting up and shifting to the edge of the seat.

"Your father had a paternity test performed, just prior to your moving in with him. A medical droid would have taken care of it, but the results are still on your record. Would you like to see?"

Luke hastily stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk.

There was an image of two holograms that looked like pieces of knotted rope. Underneath, there were lists of technical data that made no sense to Luke. His doctor guided his attention to a note on the side that read 'Match positive.'

"It doesn't prove it's him, though," Luke said, sadly.

"According to the notes, the attending med droid took the sample directly from him," Doctor Leeson insisted, pointing at the text. "This was done using a fresh scan from a living person and it included a blood type analysis. The comparison DNA scan from you was obtained within an hour of this one."

Luke let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "He really is my father, then?"

"Yes, indeed."

Luke grinned, feeling like a vast weight had been lifted from his mind. "Thank you so much."

"Anytime, Luke."

"You won't tell him about this, right?" Luke said, collecting his belongings. "He'll think I'm crazy if you do."

"I avoid talking to your father as much as possible," his doctor explained. "So your secret is safe. However, maybe you should consider talking this over with him, anyway. He might surprise you."

 _Might? He already has_ , Luke thought. Simply by being his real father.

* * *

By the time he arrived back at the palace, Luke was still grinning to himself. He wanted to call Ben and thank him for the DNA idea, but there was someone else he had to talk to first. He'd treated his father unfairly over the last week, and it was time to end it.

After picking up some food from the kitchen droids, he went in search of his father, eventually finding him in a workroom, near the ship hangar. He was sitting at a bench, surrounded by tools, repairing the detached head of a dueling droid.

"Hi, Dad ... uh ... Father," Luke said. He pulled up a stool and sat opposite. "How was your day?"

His father paused in his work and stared at him. Luke scooped up a spoonful of his dinner and began to chew.

"Do you require something?" his father asked.

"What? No!"

"Then why are you here? This morning you were barely on speaking terms with me."

"Yeah, well ..." Luke picked at his vegetables. "That was just a bad mood, but I'm over it now."

His father put down the tools. "A bad mood?" he repeated, with a touch of disbelief.

Luke continued to munch while shrugging. "Whatever it was, I'm over it. That's all you need to know."

"Good. Then you are available to attend the installation of the Abyssian senator tomorrow night."

"Another party? You mean you're not satisfied yet? What did I do wrong at the last one?"

"This time, do not tell the hosts you are not having a good time, even if it is the truth."

Luke rolled his eyes and nodded.

"This will be a smaller gathering than the embassy party. Less than thirty people. Grand Moff Halifax said he will again be attending with his daughter, and Admiral Reallis is also bringing his daughter."

Luke sighed. "Girls ..."

"What is wrong with girls?"

"Nothing, I guess," Luke said. "It's just ... they're so sophisticated and mature. Especially Ophelia ... she acts like she's a queen or something. It's intimidating. And it's so hard to find things to talk about with girls ... with the guys, you can talk about HoloNet sports, or speeder models, but with girls, it's like they're a strange alien species from the unknown regions."

"You should treat young women with politeness and respect," his father said, firmly.

"I do!" Luke said, "but it seems like whatever I do, it's the wrong thing. Like the other day ... there's a girl from a lower year who has her locker next to mine. She dropped one of her datapads, so I bent down to pick it up for her. She didn't even say thank you. She just turned bright red and started giggling."

"It sounds like she is attracted to you, Son."

Luke almost choked on his dinner. "No way! That's impossible!" He quickly scraped up the last of his food in a flurry of activity. "I have homework. Goodnight."

He left the room, but returned a moment later.

"Do you really think that's it?" Luke asked.

His father was about to reply, when Luke held up a hand.

"Never mind. I don't want to know. Goodnight for real."

He left his father sighing in exasperation.

* * *

"What are you doing with your stuff?"

Luke glanced up to see Ben standing over him.

"I'm swapping lockers with Will," Luke explained. "Just for a change."

"Did you talk to your doctor?"

Luke nodded, stepping back from his new locker as it sealed itself shut with a hiss.

"And?" Ben prompted.

"You were right. My father had already done a test and the results were in my medical records. He is my real father."

"See, I knew you shouldn't have listened to that governor! And the missing archive records?"

Luke was about to explain that he had decided to keep the entire issue secret from his father, when he saw Ophelia enter the locker room. It surprised him, because Ophelia and her friends had lockers in a different part of the school, and wouldn't normally be seen dead down here.

Ben noticed his distracted glance and turned around.

"Woah!" he said. "Uh ... I mean ... hi, Ophelia."

She gave him a distasteful look and then focused on Luke.

"Luke, my father said you'll be at this party tonight. Is that true?"

Luke nodded, curious as to why Ophelia cared.

"Good. I'll see you there, then?"

"Ophelia, you practically ignored me at the last party," Luke said, picking up his school bag.

"Yes, I know," Ophelia said, without a hint of regret. "But this time it's just you, me and Abi Reallis, and I can't stand her. You _can't_ leave me to talk to her all evening. She's a nightmare!"

"I met her last time," Luke said. "She thought you wouldn't talk to her because you think she's beneath you."

"Believe me, that is not it."

"I doubt she'll want to talk to me. She looked scared when she found out about my father."

"Even better," Ophelia said. "She'll stay away from both of us then. Besides, I hear your father is forcing you to attend these parties until he's satisfied you can socialize. It will look good if you talk with me all evening."

"Where did you hear that?!" Luke said, blushing.

Ophelia shrugged. "The Imperial grapevine. So I'll see you there, then?"

Luke nodded, sighing.

Ophelia left the room, causing Ben to emerge from the alcove where he'd taken refuge from her icy stare.

"Another party?" Ben said. "After what you told me about the last one ..."

"If I behave really well at this one, I'm hoping to convince him that I no longer need 'social training', as he calls it. Then I'll be free of the stupid things."

"Good luck, then."

"It should be a piece of bantha steak," Luke said. "There's only going to be a few people there. I can only hope it passes quickly."

* * *

Eight hours later, Luke was discovering that no matter how small a party it was, it was still dragging as slowly, if not slower, than the last one. He had only been here for half an hour, and already he was on his fifth glass of juice. This time, there were exactly two Abyssian young people in attendance, the two sons of the newly instated senator, but they were staying far away and only seemed interested in talking to other Abyssians.

"So," he said, turning to Ophelia, who was standing beside him.

"So," she said, inspecting her glass, as if to make sure it was clean.

Luke gazed around at the other guests, trying to think of something to talk about. He noticed his father, up in the shadows of the balcony as usual, was in conversation with a senior diplomat. Why didn't he ever have any trouble? Perhaps because it was the other party who did most of the talking with his father.

Luke smiled to himself, wondering why anyone would voluntarily offer to make small talk with his silent, moody father.

"Um," Luke said, turning back to Ophelia. "Did you catch any of the blade racing last night?"

"Blade racing?" She sounded bored.

"Yes. Malastare versus Toydaria. I was so sure Malastare was going to win this one. I've been following their progress for years, but the Toydarian team have been out of this galaxy this season."

Ophelia didn't reply.

"Uh ... so are you into any HoloNet sports?" Luke asked.

Ophelia rolled her eyes, looking away. "I'm starting to think this was a bad idea."

"It was just a question," Luke protested. "No need to get all moody!"

Ophelia didn't reply, and Luke looked away, sighing. He found himself the subject of his father's appraising stare, however, and he quickly turned back to Ophelia. He couldn't help but wish they were standing in a little less conspicuous space, but Ophelia wasn't satisfied with anything less than the center of the room.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked.

"What? I don't hate you," she said, glancing at him. "You're Lord Vader's son."

"But if I wasn't, you would hate me, right?"

She shrugged. "You're all right, in your own way. But let's be honest, we're from two different galaxies."

"Come on, I'm sure we have _something_ in common," Luke said.

"Of course we do. We're both rich and powerful."

Luke considered telling her he had to do chores to receive what little allowance his father gave him, but then thought better of it.

"But we handle it differently," she continued. "You like to pretend you're not, for some strange reason. For example—associating with that Charity Case at school. Would you see me doing that?"

Luke nodded, sighing. "I get the picture. Two different galaxies."

"I'm so glad you agree."

Luke decided to change the subject. "Um ... do you go to every party like this?" he asked, waving a hand at the room.

"My father and I have a very busy schedule," she said. "We can't go to _every_ party. We've been coming to these because Abyssia is going to be part of the territory my father governs."

"So he's going to be their new boss?" Luke said, looking around until he spotted Ophelia's father. He was chatting with the Abyssian ambassador.

"That's a very crass way of putting it, but yes," Ophelia said.

"I usually see you and your father alone together. Is it just the two of you?"

Ophelia appeared surprised at the question.

"Sorry if that's an awkward subject," Luke said, fidgeting with his glass. "But you know my mother isn't around ... I thought we might have that in common."

"She's a member of the Evexian royal family," Ophelia explained. "It's in the sector my father governs. She has her own political duties to perform, so she lives there."

"That must be hard," Luke said.

"What must be hard?"

"Being separated from her," Luke said.

Ophelia didn't appear too disturbed. "I see her occasionally. I can stay there during the semester breaks, if I want. We're not really all that close ... she's busy with her own life and career. I was raised by nannies, mostly."

"I can't really imagine feeling that way," Luke said. "I've never known my mother ... but I would give anything just to spend one second with her. I used to feel the same way about my father, when we were separated."

"It's not that I don't love her, or anything like that," Ophelia explained. "I'm a realist, that's all. My parents got married for political reasons. He was a senator in the Republic at the time, highly regarded by Emperor Palpatine, and Evexia wanted to ensure political and economic stability throughout the Clone Wars and beyond."

Luke had been staring at Ophelia in surprise throughout her explanation. "I've never heard of a marriage like that before."

"You're so naïve. Real life isn't a fairy story. Marriages are always about money, publicity or political gain."

"They are not," Luke insisted. "My parents married because they were in love."

Ophelia gave him a skeptical look, and then she said, "I do miss my brothers, though."

"You have brothers?"

She nodded. "Four of them."

Luke smiled. "I knew another girl with four brothers once. She was nothing like you. Every playground fight was over the second she showed up."

"You think I couldn't win a playground fight?" Ophelia asked, frowning.

Luke raised his hands.

"Perhaps I just don't let that side of myself show when it isn't appropriate," she said. "Growing up with four brothers taught me a lot about power. And ruined any love I once had for HoloNet sports."

Luke smirked. "Fair enough. I'm really only into the racing myself, but I'll go down to the royal guard office to watch a nunaball game sometimes. They all like to shout at the screen."

Ophelia was about to reply, when they were approached by another girl, clad in a long, white dress. Luke recognised Abi Reallis.

"Hello, Ophelia!" she said, in an overly sweet tone.

Ophelia closed her eyes for a moment and screwed up her forehead as if she were concentrating hard on a difficult problem.

"You were saying, Luke?" she prompted.

"Um," Luke said, wondering what he _was_ saying. He smiled at Abi. "Hi again."

Abi looked him up and down, and then said, "Do you like to wear black?"

Her tone was vaguely hostile. It set Luke off balance, wondering exactly what he had done. He looked down at his clothes. "I guess."

"Lord Vader wears black all the time. Are you trying to look like him?"

Luke frowned, but before he could think up a suitable reply, Ophelia provided one for him.

"Oh, wonderful observational skills, Abi. I see you've learned how to tell colors apart. Luke, have you done the homework for galactic geography yet? Because I need some help with the essay."

"Why do you talk to him?" Abi asked Ophelia, while gesturing at Luke. "If you think I'm beneath you, then what does that make him?"

Ophelia glanced between Abi and Luke, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Ophelia asked. "Luke is Lord Vader's son."

"You mean you _haven't heard_?" Abi said. "If anyone knew things about people around here, I thought it would be you."

Luke felt his heart begin to beat faster. She couldn't mean ... had her father told her the story he'd heard from Ophelia's father?

"Luke, what is she on about?" Ophelia asked. "Sometimes I wonder where one has to go for intelligent conversation in this galaxy."

"I don't know what she's talking about," Luke insisted.

"Sure you do," Abi said, stepping closer. "Why are you hiding it? It's out now—everyone knows. You might as well be open about it. You're not really his son."

"Oh, for star's sake," Ophelia said, rolling her eyes.

Luke couldn't even speak … his throat had grown tight.

"It's true!" Abi insisted. "His father was some Jedi traitor who tried to kill the Emperor. The Jedi tried to hide him in the Outer Rim … that's why he talks like a peasant."

"Outer Rim peasants are better people than many I've met here," Luke said, struggling to control his temper. He stepped back from Abi, trying to give himself some breathing room. "And I _am_ his son," he added. "Ask him yourself if you don't believe me. There are DNA tests which prove—"

Abi sniggered, covering her mouth.

"What?!" Luke asked, angrily.

His tone caused some of the nearby guests to stare at them, but Luke didn't care. He was starting to see why Ophelia had wanted to avoid this girl.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I shouldn't laugh."

"Stop it, Abi," Ophelia said. "Luke may be adopted, but he's still Lord Vader's son—and more important than you'll ever be."

"I'm not adopted!" Luke protested.

"It's more than that," Abi said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Lord Vader is going to use him to take over the Empire. That's why he took him in."

"You know absolutely nothing about the Emperor, if you think he'd let that go past him," Ophelia said. "Which wouldn't surprise me. And accusing Lord Vader of plotting against the Emperor is treason, so I'd close my mouth if I were you, before someone overhears you."

"He faked DNA tests to convince the Emperor," Abi said. "My father knows all about it. I'm surprised yours doesn't—he must be out of the loop."

" _Faked_?" Luke repeated, suddenly. No ... it wasn't true!

Abi glanced back at him, looking curious. "You mean you honestly didn't know about any of this? Come on! How could you honestly believe you were his son. That's ridiculous!"

"It's not," Luke said, desperately. "I ... we ... "

"You think if he really wanted to pull this off he'd have chosen someone who actually looked the part," Abi said. "Come on, you're shorter than me!"

"I ... I—" Luke felt a rush of anger, causing the edges of his vision to turn red. Faked tests? _Faked?!_

"So you really believed this?" Abi asked, now sounding a little confused. "You really thought you were his son?"

"Shut up!" Luke yelled, emptying the remaining contents of his glass all over her.

She screamed loudly. "My dress!"

Everyone in the room stopped talking at the shout and looked in their direction. It didn't help that they were standing in the middle of the room. Even worse, the two young Abyssians were now standing close by.

Luke stared at the dark orange stain of Juri Juice dripping down Abi's front, gradually feeling shock at his action. What had he _done?!_ No longer wanting to deal with the situation, he turned and made a dash for the exit.

He didn't make it very far, though. He passed through the lobby, and the outer corridor, and then found himself blocked at the final exit by two stormtroopers.

"Excuse me, young sir, this is a restricted area."

Luke tried to push past them, but was held back roughly. Within ten seconds, he heard the sound of mechanical breathing behind him. Luke tried to force his way past the guards once more, but it proved futile. He only succeeded in grazing his knuckles against their armor.

"Luke?"

Luke turned around, glaring angrily at Vader. "What?"

Vader returned his gaze for a moment, before waving the troopers away. "Go and post yourselves outside."

They hastily obeyed, closing the outer doors behind them. Luke glanced past Vader, and saw Abi and her father at the other end of the corridor, out of earshot. A serving droid had offered Abi a wet towel, and she was attempting to sponge herself off. Her father appeared to be comforting her.

He glanced back up at Vader, suddenly fearful of his temper.

He didn't appear angry, though. More ... curious.

"What was that about?" he asked, calmly.

"She annoyed me!" Luke said. "I lost my temper."

"What did she say?"

"She ... " Luke trailed off, feeling sick. Here he was, back at square one again. Stuck between a krayt dragon and a sarlacc pit.

"Never mind," Luke said, turning away.

"What did she say?" Vader repeated. "I want a proper explanation, Son."

"It's none of your business!" Luke yelled. He was still calling him 'son', even after all this had happened. Everyone in the Imperial hierarchy was talking about their fake relationship, and he was still pretending there was nothing wrong. He couldn't possibly be completely oblivious.

"Very well," Vader said, raising a finger to point at him. "If you will not give me an explanation, you will instead apologize to the girl and her father for your conduct."

"No!" Luke said, stubbornly.

"Stop acting like a child," Vader said, sounding weary. "You are too old to be behaving like this."

"I'm not going to apologize," Luke said, forcefully. "This is all your fault!"

"What is all my fault? What is behind all this, Son? You have been acting erratically for a week, now. Do you need professional help?"

"I need _you_ to leave me alone," Luke said. "I'm sick of being used and I'm sick of your lies!"

"What lies?"

Luke covered his face, trying to restrain himself from saying anything more he might regret. He needed to be alone, to sort out his next move—if he broke down and revealed everything now ... he didn't even want to contemplate the consequences.

"You are trying my patience," Vader said, finally. "This has gone on long enough. I _will_ find out what is bothering you, with or without your cooperation."

Luke flinched at the thinly veiled threat. He'd forgotten about his father's ability to forcibly read thoughts. "Why don't you just get out your torture robots and interrogate me?!" Luke suggested, trying to hide his fear.

"Is that what I need to do to get a straight answer from you, Son?"

Luke couldn't bring himself to respond.

Eventually, Vader reached out and gripped him firmly by the shoulder. For a second, Luke thought he was going to force an answer out of him, right then and there. Instead, he was taken across to a different door, which led out to the landing pad. Vader gestured to a stormtrooper, who walked over quickly.

"Escort my son back to the palace," he said to the trooper.

"Yes, sir."

He gave Luke a surprisingly gentle push, considering the circumstances. Luke didn't need the encouragement.

* * *

Vader was surprised he had managed to keep his own temper during that exchange. Something was keeping it at bay. Perhaps it was the worry ... he was becoming increasingly worried about his son, and this incident had done much to intensify that feeling. It simply wasn't like Luke to behave like this. His son was normally a good-natured, high-spirited young man, not brooding and moody. Something serious was bothering him, and try as he might, he would not confide in him.

He let out a long, slow breath as he returned to the balcony, hoping that the remainder of the evening would pass quickly.

"Teenagers," he sighed.

Beside him, Grand Moff Halifax glanced at him in surprise. "They can be a gundark in a galley, that's for certain."

Vader looked at him, reciprocating his surprise. He didn't realize he had spoken the word out loud. Beside the man, his daughter spoke up in indignation. "Dad!"

"I don't mean you," he said, pulling his daughter into a half-embrace. "Having had both, I can safely say that daughters are far superior to sons, when it comes to the teenage years."

"What has led you to that conclusion?" Vader asked, curious.

"Five broken windows, and two smashed doors. Oh, and one broken table. Then I discovered military school, and life has never been better since."

"I would debate that," the Abyssian ambassador spoke up. "My sister gave my parents far more trouble than I ever did."

"The girls may be less prone to breaking the walls," a senator added, joining the conversation. "But wait until they start bringing home the potential mates ... then you'll begin to wonder which is easier."

The adults continued to discuss the issue, and Vader withdrew into his own thoughts. _A daughter_ ... now there was a fascinating prospect.

For a moment, he pictured a girl, looking much like Padmé. Just as fiercely independent, just as passionate about changing the galaxy, and just as idealistic. Rather than dealing with constant nagging about learning to fly, it would instead be 'Father, can I run for senator?', 'Father, can I pass a law to afford greater rights to refugees?' Vader shuddered slightly, picturing his imaginary daughter bringing home a man just as reckless and foolish as he'd been when he'd married Padmé.

 _I would choke him to death_ , he thought, taking much pleasure in the idea.

"Um ... Lord Vader, sir?"

Vader brushed away his daydream and glanced down at the young lady beside him. It was Halifax's daughter, an age-mate of Luke's. She looked up at him, clearly nervous. After a few seconds, she spoke.

"Sir, I don't know if Luke told you, but Abi Reallis said some nasty things to provoke him. It wasn't really his fault."

Vader, quickly recovering from his surprise at being addressed by someone so young, suddenly saw an opportunity arising for some answers to his questions.

"No, he did not," he said. "I would appreciate anything you could tell me."

"Well, there has been a rumor going around that Luke is really the son of some Jedi, and you adopted him from the Outer Rim—and Abi was implying that means Luke isn't your real son." Ophelia paused for a moment. "That's not true, of course," she added, quickly. "I know that. But Luke appears to believe it is."

Several seconds passed before Vader could appreciate the full implication of the words.

"Not my _real_ son?" he repeated, scarcely able to believe it.

"I don't know the entire story," Ophelia explained. "I'm above all that gossip, of course. But I'm sure someone else will."

Vader abruptly turned, heading for the exit.

* * *

During the flight home, Luke had finally reached a conclusion. He couldn't stay here any longer. He thought it wouldn't matter if he was living a lie, but that had proved to be false. He was falling apart like this.

Besides, Vader was going to force the truth out of him when he returned to the palace. And what would he do with him then, when he discovered his carefully laid plans had been ruined? Would he ask him to continue living as his son anyway? What if the Emperor found out about the lies—would he kill him?

It didn't matter now, anyway, he'd be long gone by the time Vader came back.

Upon arriving in his bedroom, he quickly shifted over to the closet and pulled out a packing bag. He'd never be able to take all his possessions, but if he could just grab the essentials, it would make his new life a whole lot easier. His clothes and refresher supplies were really all he needed. The rest would have to stay behind.

After emptying his closet of clothes, and sweeping everything from the refresher into the bag, he took a quick glance around the room, looking for something to fill the small remaining space. His eye fell on a blue and white sheet hanging from the wall. His hand began to move towards it, but as he became aware of what it was, he paused. A podracing flag ... a gift his father had given him. He frowned, feeling a wave of anger. He had to stop thinking of Vader as his father.

A tear slid down his cheek, and he angrily reached up to wipe it away. There was nothing to be upset about.

He was better off without him.

* * *

 _Not my real son_. It was so utterly stupid, Vader was still struggling to make sense of it.

The very thought that he would have _voluntarily_ submitted himself to this torture. If he ever found the fool who started this rumor, the only fitting punishment would be Skywalker babysitting duty twenty-four hours, every day of the year, preferably when Luke was going through a reckless phase. Then they would know just how likely it was that Luke was adopted.

 _Do they think I am running some kind of charity orphanage?,_ Vader thought, as he flew back to the palace. _Do the words Dark Lord of the Sith mean nothing to them?_ _Next, they will be claiming the Imperial Palace is a homeless shelter, and the Emperor runs a daycare center in his throne room_.

Still, he had always known the vast majority of Imperial politicians were utterly stupid. The Emperor was always wary of smart politicians, for understandable reasons. But he could not use stupidity to excuse his son. How could the boy believe such ridiculous rumors in the face of the obvious truth? How could he trust gossip from the Imperial aristocracy over the truth he had been living for years now? It made no sense at all.

When he came into land, he paused before leaving the speeder. As difficult as it was, he had to make some attempt to understand his son's thought process in this. It would do no good for either of them if he confronted him while angry. The boy was painfully young, after all. Barely more than a child. He couldn't expect him to think and rationalize like an adult.

It was clear the boy had allowed his feelings of inadequacy to blind him to the truth. He had to find a way to reverse this damage. Yelling and lecturing, as tempting as it was, probably wasn't the best approach.

Vader considered the various options, before finally opening the speeder door.

He could only hope his idea would work.

* * *

Luke was just in the process of jamming the last corner of the flag into his packing case, when, out of nowhere, his door comm terminal began to make a loud, incessant beep. He looked toward it in fright. Vader couldn't possibly be back already! That party was supposed to go on for at least another hour ...

The doors slid open, and the rhythmic mechanical breathing put an end to Luke's desperate wish that it was only Lev. He quickly stepped back from the collection of objects he had gathered and pushed the bag aside, trying to hide the fact that he was packing.

Vader walked forward, his dark shape filling Luke's vision completely. He paused for a moment, looking around.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Luke insisted.

"Are you packing?"

Luke remained quiet.

"Where, exactly, are you intending to go? The street? Back to Tatooine?"

"Anywhere, just ... " Luke couldn't finish the thought out loud. _Away from you._ "You can't stop me," he said, finally. It sounded weak, even to his ears.

But surprisingly, Vader agreed. "Very well. You may leave if you wish. You are not my prisoner."

"You ..." Luke glanced down at his bag. "You mean it?"

"Certainly. Do you need assistance in packing?"

Luke shook his head. "All done."

Vader stood aside, clearing his path to the door.

Luke hoisted the bag over his shoulder. He took one step towards the door and then hesitated.

Something had changed. It made no sense otherwise. This morning, Vader wouldn't have let him stay out one minute after his curfew, never mind allow him to leave for good. He must have discovered the truth. It was the only explanation for this.

Luke glanced at Vader in shock. Now that he knew his plans had been revealed, he wanted nothing more to do with him.

"So ... this is it, then?" Luke asked, shakily.

"Is it?"

"It's ... uh ... it's been fun, I guess."

Luke resumed his walk towards the door. He paused before reaching it though and turned back.

"You're really going to just stand there and let me leave?"

"Is that not what I'm doing?"

Luke struggled to prevent tears from welling up in his eyes. "You're not even going to say goodbye? Did the past two years mean _nothing_ to you?"

"It is not I who is leaving."

Luke fidgeted for a moment and took another step towards the door. He reached up and pressed the button which resulted in the doors sliding open, clearing his exit.

He stepped over the door frame, and began to walk down the corridor. He listened for Vader to follow him, but there was only silence. Luke began to walk a little slower, seeing the elevator was growing closer a little too quickly. As that distance lessened, his uncertainty grew.

This felt ... _wrong_ , somehow. Something was urging him to go back and get some answers. Despite what he knew, there was still a connection there. A connection he could not deny.

Finally, Luke paused and made an about-turn. This may be a mistake, but he couldn't help it. His curiosity was getting the better of him.

Once in the room, he saw Vader was still there, having not moved from his earlier position.

"Did you forget something?" he asked.

Luke let his bag drop to the floor, and he folded his arms. "I need some answers. Before I leave."

"What do you want to know?"

Luke was about to speak, then he hesitated. "How ... how did you find out?" he asked, finally.

"One of your age-mates saw fit to inform me, a short time ago."

There was a drawn-out silence, until Vader prompted him. "Is that all?"

"No," Luke said, suddenly angry. His voice was breaking with the strain, but he was past caring. "I want to know _why!_ Why you took me in and made me think I was your son when I wasn't. How could you lie to me like that? I trusted you!"

"For a number of reasons," Vader started, somewhat casually.

Almost too casually. Luke frowned, angry that he could brush this off so easily.

"I had too much leisure time on my hands," he said, using the Force to clear a space on the bed. "Helping run an Empire only takes a miniscule portion of the day, after all. I wanted to take on the fulltime job of being a parent, just to relieve my boredom. I had stared death in the face too many times to count, but somehow it just wasn't _enough_. I needed a greater trial. I needed _more_ stress and destruction in my life."

He sat down, leaving Luke blinking in surprise at this revelation. Of all the excuses he'd been expecting to hear ...

"Everything was too routine and ordered," Vader continued. "I wanted the kind of lifestyle where it was impossible to plan for the next five minutes, lest an adolescent drama decide to plague my life."

 _He's kidding_ , Luke realized, with sudden shock.

"And most of all, my devotion to the ways of the Sith were causing underlings to view me in a somewhat negative light," he added. "They would obey all orders immediately and without question. I wanted to relax my reputation somewhat ... what better way than by adopting someone who would roam the corridors wearing only a towel and address me with diminishing appellations? A flawless plan, was it not?"

"It ... it's not true, is it?" Luke asked, fighting to hold back tears of relief. "I am your real son?"

"Don't get me started," his father said, with a sudden dangerous edge.

"I didn't know what to believe," Luke protested. "I was so confused!"

"Perhaps if you had actually thought about this for any length of time, rather than reaching conclusions based purely on your own adolescent insecurities. How could you believe rumor and hearsay so easily?"

"You don't understand," Luke sniffed. "I wasn't supposed to hear any of it ... it was an accident! They were talking alone, in an empty corridor. They said you told Governor Tarkin you had killed a Jedi named Skywalker. Then you took me to use to overthrow the Emperor, and he sounded like he really knew what he was talking about ... what was I supposed to think?!"

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have put this matter to rest immediately."

"But if it had been true ... telling you could have meant that I'd be looking for a new home! Come on, what would you have done in my position?"

"I would not have trusted people who spread rumors."

"You don't trust anyone."

"I trust people to be dishonest."

Luke groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "But I didn't know what you'd do," he continued, miserably. "I went to the library to try and find anything that could prove who my father was, but someone had gone through and deleted my records. You're trying to hide something from me—admit it!"

"Of course your records aren't publicly available. Such a thing would put you in serious danger."

"But it looked suspicious!" Luke said. "Then I went to my doctor to ask about DNA tests, and he showed me the results of the one you requested, so I thought I was safe. But then Abi told me you had faked DNA test results to convince the Emperor that I was your son, and I lost it!" Luke shook his head, clearing his eyes again. "We're so different," he said, in a quiet voice.

"Less so than either of us are willing to admit, perhaps," his father said, calmly.

Luke almost smiled, despite his confusion. He had to admit his father had a point. There were aspects of his father's personality that he went to great lengths to deny having himself. But he'd never considered that it might go the other way, as well.

"I guess you're really angry with me," Luke said, finally, looking at the floor. "I ruined yet another party. I made your life miserable for days. I really thought you weren't my father."

His father let out a weary breath, and then stood up to close the distance between them. Luke glanced up, somewhat nervous. His father rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, though.

"Not with you. I was—I am—angry that you did not confide in me as soon as you heard these rumors. I thought we had a better relationship than that, young one. It seems we still have a long way to go."

"It wasn't your fault," Luke insisted, distressed at the idea that his father would blame himself. "It was _me_ ... I ... well, I guess I was feeling—see, if it had been true, then I wouldn't have to fit into this society anymore. I could go back to being ... just Luke. I don't want to be part of this world, but I do want to be your son. I'm still trying to figure out how to want one, without wanting the other. Believing I wasn't your son just seemed like a solution. A bad solution, but it was a solution."

"Luke, you have always been my son. While you were living on Tatooine, you were my son, and while you were living as an orphan, you were still my son. Whether or not you ever learn to be part of this society, you will _still_ be my son. Our continued relationship is not dependent on you passing these social tests.

"You mean I can hate these parties, but still like being your son?"

"Yes," his father sighed, with a touch of weariness.

"But—"

"What?"

Luke fidgeted with his sleeve for a moment, uncertain as to how his father would react to this, but knowing he had to ask.

"How do you know?" he said, finally. "That I'm your son. For sure, I mean. Isn't there a chance that the tests really _were_ faked?"

His father let out a somewhat frustrated breath. "You are still having doubts?"

"Not doubts ... not exactly. I'm just curious. You have to admit that we make a pretty strange family."

"I know you are my son because of our bond through the Force."

"I don't understand," Luke said. "Why does that make you sure?"

His father studied him silently for a few moments. "Perhaps I can show you," he said, eventually.

"Show me?"

"Yes, but not here," his father said, releasing Luke and beckoning him to follow. "It will be easier if we go to a place strong with the Force."

Luke rubbed his head and moved to follow. "The Force?" he said, struggling to keep pace with his father. "What does that have to do with this? And I thought you weren't allowed to discuss that with me."

"You will see," his father said. "I may not be allowed to train you in the ways of the Force, but I will not have you growing up in ignorance of your birthright."

They entered the elevator, and his father keyed in a level that was almost right at the bottom. Below the administration offices. Below the basement ship hangars, even.

"What's down there?" Luke asked.

"You will see," his father repeated. "Be patient."

Luke watched the floor number drop lower and lower. He rubbed his head slightly, wondering briefly at how quickly things could change. Just a moment ago, he'd been determined to leave, and now he was on his way to some mysterious place, where he would supposedly learn something new about the Force. He couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed, as the elevator arrived at the final floor. His father stepped out first, and Luke followed him down a long, narrow corridor. There were strange symbols carved into the walls. At the end, he turned sideways and reached out to tap a security code into a door terminal.

When the doors slid open, Luke found himself standing at the entrance to some sort of meditation room. It was devoid of all furniture, apart from several cushioned cylinders. The walls were, as most were in the building, pitch black. There were various silver pyramid symbols carved into the ceiling, however. It was an odd triangular room, with the door at one corner.

"What is this place?" Luke said, following his father in. "I've never been in here before."

"It is where I come when I need some peace and quiet," his father said, sitting down on one of circular seats. He used the Force to drag a second one forward and gestured for Luke to sit opposite.

Luke walked forward slowly, staring at the ceiling.

"It's spooky here," he said, shuddering slightly as he sat down. "I can feel ...no, maybe it's nothing."

"This is also a miniature temple," his father explained. "The Force is strong here."

"I thought the Force was everywhere," Luke said. "How can it be stronger in one place than in another?"

His father appeared to think for a moment, and then he changed the subject. "Never mind that now. I brought you here for a reason. Come closer."

Luke shuffled the round seat forward a few centimeters, until he was alongside and opposite his father. His father reached out a hand and placed it flat on his chest.

Luke was about to ask what he was doing, when he suddenly became aware of something. It was a feeling already familiar to him, but it was usually a lot weaker than this. It was ... a mental connection, between his father and himself. Through it, he could sense his father's presence, and even a little of his mood. The feeling steadily grew stronger, until Luke became nervous. How much of his own thoughts could his father sense?

He felt his father respond to his nervousness, and the feeling leveled off. Luke gradually became used to it, and he closed his eyes a moment, exploring the link.

"How do you do that?" Luke asked.

"It is not me, Son. It is you."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You are reaching out to me ... forming a mental bond."

"I know," Luke said. "I can feel a little of what you're feeling."

"As I can sense you."

Luke continued to experiment with the link, fascinated with the prospect of being mentally joined to someone. It was the ultimate freedom of communication.

"Why do we have this link?" Luke asked. "Is it because we're both Force sensitive?"

"Weak mental links can be formed between all Force users," his father explained. "But an attachment of this level is unheard of."

"Why can we do it, then?" Luke asked.

"Because we are relatives. See?"

His father shifted the texture of their bond, slightly, guiding Luke to a new aspect. Luke probed deeper, curious as to what he was sensing on the other end of the bond. It felt like part of his own mind, except it wasn't, it was clearly on his father's end.

"We're the same?" Luke said.

"No. You are my child."

Luke suddenly understood. He was sensing the part of his father which he had passed on to him. The part of themselves which they shared. A little like the chromosomes Ben had mentioned, except this wasn't something you could see with a micro-scanner. Luke couldn't help but smile. He understood why his father wanted to show him this ... he could feel the truth in their relationship.

 _I guess we're really not so different, after all,_ Luke thought.

_Perhaps not._

Luke started. "Did you just talk in my head?" he asked.

His father didn't reply, but he felt confirmation over the bond.

 _You mean you can hear my thoughts?_ Luke asked.

_Only when you send them to me._

_This is neat,_ Luke sent _, who needs a comlink when you have the Force?_

_The Force is not for your entertainment, Son. It is only used for worthy tasks._

_I know,_ Luke thought _, do you think the Emperor would be mad if he knew we were doing this?_

_That is my concern, Son, not yours._

After a brief moment of silence, his father added something.

_There is no need to be worried._

_I'm not worried!_

_Yes, you are. You can't hide your feelings in this state._

Luke instantly felt nervous. Many concerns came rushing into his mind, and he struggled to rein them in.

_Relax, Son. I can only sense your feelings, not your thoughts._

_Are you sure? You've read my mind before._

Luke instantly felt pain on the other end of the bond, and it caused him to flinch. Even though it hurt, he couldn't bring himself to withdraw from the link. He was curious as to why his father was hurting. He wasn't used to the idea ... his father always seemed so stoic. The pain soon became something different .. it almost felt like ... regret.

 _What's wrong?_ Luke asked.

_I don't believe I ever apologized for that, Luke. I should not have forcibly read your mind. I lost my temper._

_It's all right_ , Luke said, surprised to hear his father apologize to him. Twice in one week now. _We weren't getting on very well, then. Things are better now, though._ _Only .._

_Only, what?_

_Did you mean all that stuff you said, earlier,_ Luke said, _about me destroying your orderly life?_

_Yes._

_Why do you keep me around, then?_ Luke asked.

_A mystery I shall never know the answer to._

_You care about me,_ Luke sent, playfully, _A lot. I can sense it._

His father removed his hand, and Luke felt the bond dissolve.

"It is well past your bedtime, young one."

Luke yawned in agreement.

"Unless you are still planning to leave."

Luke shrugged. "Well, I am already packed ... but maybe I should stay. I wouldn't want your life to get boring."

"Good. Then you will be available to attend the treaty-signing tomorrow."

Luke groaned, reluctantly standing up. "Treaty signing! Then what was that party for this evening?"

"That was the installation of their new senator."

"This is getting ridiculous," Luke said.

"I think you will like the treaty signing," his father said, guiding him out of the meditation room.

"Sure I'll like it," Luke said, as they entered the elevator. "Like I like the dentist."

"It will be held aboard the Abyssian ship in orbit."

Luke went from sleepy to wide-awake in a heartbeat. "Space? Going?! Us?"

His father turned and gave him the look that only a long-suffering parent could give.

"Wow!" Luke said. "Do you think I'll be able to—?"

"No," his father said.

"But—"

"No."

Luke frowned. "You don't even know what I'm asking."

"The answer is still no. There will be no time for anything which you find exciting."

Luke sighed, nodding.

"And," his father added, as they stepped out of the elevator, "don't lose your temper with anyone. I do not care how annoying they may be."

"Do as I say, and not as I do policy, huh?" Luke asked.

"Exactly."

They paused outside Luke's bedroom door.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, then," Luke said. He made to enter his bedroom, but his father stopped him, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"One final thing."

"What?"

"I wasn't going to let you leave, young one."

Luke looked at the floor, smiling to himself. "I know," he said quietly.

"But don't call me young one!" Luke added, looking back up at his father. "It's patronizing."

"I could say the same about the manner in which you addressed me in front of Tarkin," his father said, pointing at him.

"'Dad' is affectionate, not patronizing," Luke said.

"Affection _is_ patronizing," his father insisted.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Today was the day.

Vader was certain of it. All the time and effort he had put into training his son was finally going to pay off, in the form of a social engagement that didn't result in an embarrassing fiasco of Skywalker proportions. This time, there were no hidden secrets and no malicious rumors. Nothing which might be lurking below the surface, ticking like a timebomb. Luke was going to do it this time. He had absolute faith in his son.

Although, he did wish he would get out of bed earlier. It was nearing ten, and still there were no signs of life from his son's bedroom. He'd finally decided it was time to go and apply some of his infamous motivational skills, when Luke saved himself the privilege, by emerging from the depths with a grin on his face and energy to spare.

His smile only grew wider when he saw his father, waiting nearby.

"'Morning, your lordship," he said, with a mock salute.

Vader had been about to remind his son of their imminent departure, but the words died in his mouth. Luke made to walk on, seemingly off in his own fantasy world, but Vader reached out with the Force to stop him.

"Would you care to repeat that?!" he demanded.

"You told me to address you with more respect," Luke said, with a touch of innocent indignation.

"That is not respect," Vader said, pointing at his son. "That is mockery, and you know it. And why are you in such a good mood?"

Luke shrugged. "Do I need a reason for being in a good mood?"

"In my presence, you do."

"I just woke up this way. Besides, we're going into _space_."

"We won't be if you are not ready to depart in one hour."

"I'll be ready, believe me."

Vader glanced down at Luke's bright orange pajamas, covered with silver polka-dots. They were truly an eye-sore, by anyone's taste.

"And no, I'm not planning to wear these," Luke said, dodging past. "I was just going to get some breakfast. Give me an hour, and I'll be back in black. Your favorite color!"

"And with a more mature attitude, I hope," Vader said, annoyed.

"Yes, sir!" Luke quickly disappeared into the elevator, wisely avoiding his father's masked glare.

* * *

Luke was more than ready to leave half an hour before their scheduled departure time and found himself pacing outside his father's private chamber, waiting for him to emerge.

 _Come on_ , he thought, _what's taking so long? It's not like you have to decide what to wear!_

He glanced at his wrist-chrono impatiently, and watched the seconds pass by until his father finally appeared.

"I'm ready," Luke said. "I've been ready for the past ten minutes!"

"What is the hurry?" his father asked, as Luke jogged along beside him.

"Are you kidding? We're heading for the stars! Can I _please_ have a turn at piloting?"

"No," his father said, with a 'no arguments' finality. He stepped into the elevator, and Luke joined him.

"Why not?!"

"Because you are an over-excited child," his father said, pressing the button for the ship hangar. "This is an important flight, not a joyride."

"Who's over-excited?" Luke said, resting his weight on alternating feet. "And I'm a teenager, not a child."

"Are you even aware of the importance of our mission today?"

Luke nodded. "We're visiting some Abyssian ship."

"We are attending the treaty signing to finalize the entry of Abyssia into the Empire. The success of future military projects depends on this."

"But it is on a ship, isn't it?" Luke said. "I got that part right."

"It is taking place on board the luxury cruiser owned by the Abyssian royal family," his father confirmed.

The elevator doors slid open in front of them, and Luke jumped forward eagerly. Unfortunately, his father moved to exit at the exact same moment, meaning both of them were momentarily stuck in the elevator doorway.

"Luke!"

"Sorry," Luke said, finally managing to squeeze ahead. "So ... this treaty signing ... it's only going to take five minutes, right?"

"Five minutes?"

"Well, all a treaty signing takes is a few people holding lightpens, writing their names on a datapad," Luke said. "Maybe ten minutes, if people really take their time about it."

"When we arrive, we will be introduced to the Abyssian royal family. Our intelligence suggests they are finally going to allow the prince and princess to attend. I believe they are of an age with you, so you will have an important diplomatic role to play."

"I've never met royals before," Luke said, fidgeting with his sleeve.

"It is much like meeting anyone else, except you address them as 'your highness'."

"Like the Emperor?"

"Yes."

"Even the younger ones?"

"When you first meet them, yes," his father said. "But after that, it is not expected."

Luke nodded, wondering how he was ever going to remember these things.

"After the treaty is signed, we will proceed to the post treaty-signing celebration. We will not stay long—I have other business to attend to at IMH, so it is likely we will leave before the party has ended."

"That's one good thing, at least."

It wasn't until they were on board the shuttle and Luke was strapped into the co-pilot's seat, that a new worry occurred to Luke.

"Is Admiral Reallis going to be there?" he said quietly, as his father went through the pre-flight warm up.

"Yes. The _Guardian_ is providing extra security for the event. We will dock with the Star Destroyer and then proceed with the Admiral to the Abyssian cruiser."

"And … his daughter?"

"I doubt very much he will have invited his daughter."

Luke cringed. He was going to have to find an opportunity to apologise, no matter how embarrassing it would be. He felt all his earlier excitement begin to drain as they accelerated into the Coruscant skies.

The Abyssian cruiser was located at the outer edge of the Coruscant system, surrounded by a small fleet of Star Destroyers. Luke had a good view of it as his father flew under the Star Destroyer. It was built in a smooth, rounded T-shape, with the docking bay located on the front of the bow. As they drew closer, Luke could see circular protrusions lining the surface at regular intervals.

His attention soon turned to the Star Destroyer. As they came into land, Luke could already see lines of stormtroopers filing into the hangar.

"What are those troopers doing?" Luke asked, as his father started the shut down sequence.

"They are there to welcome you to the _Guardian_."

"Me?!" It took Luke a moment to catch on. "Oh, ha ha. Can I stay on board? Are we taking this ship over to the Abyssian cruiser?"

"No, we are taking that ship," his father said, gesturing to a larger shuttle parked nearby. "Come on."

Luke hovered behind his father, taking his time leaving the shuttle. Admiral Reallis was waiting at the bottom, and Luke felt too embarrassed to even look at him. But there was another officer with him, and Luke recognized the woman who had presented on Abyssia at the meeting with the Emperor. Commander Darnell. She smiled at him and fell into step, as his father and the admiral walked on ahead.

"Hello. I'm glad you could make it today. You've heard the prince and princess are here?"

Luke nodded. "I guess they came around, then."

"Yes, they did. Thanks to you and the other young people who have assisted with our diplomatic efforts. You've done very well."

They had reached the end of the line of stormtroopers now, and the admiral was far enough ahead that Luke felt free enough to speak his mind.

"You can't have been there last night," Luke mumbled, looking at the floor. "I'm pretty sure all the Abyssians think I'm crazy now."

"I was there," she said gently. "Mistakes happen. In fact, the only comments I heard from our new friends were remarks about how easy it is to accidentally spill one's drink."

Luke rubbed his head. "Does the admiral think I'm unstable?"

She smiled. "The admiral is a fair man. I've never known him to be quick to pass judgement on anyone."

That made him feel a little better. Shortly afterwards, when they were on their way over to the Abyssian ship, an opportunity arose to deliver the needed apology. His father left him alone in the passenger lounge to give the pilots the security code, and the Admiral was standing apart from the main group, studying the Abyssian ship outside the viewports.

Luke took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then walked over and placed himself beside him. The Admiral glanced down at him, appearing surprised.

"Admiral Reallis, I'm sorry about what happened between me and your daughter last night. There was no excuse for losing my temper like that. Please tell her I'm sorry."

He gave a small nod, but didn't say anything immediately. Luke felt even more embarrassed, wondering if he'd have preferred it if he'd said nothing at all. But then he pointed at the ship.

"See all those protrusions?"

"Uh … yes, I saw them as we flew in," Luke said. "They look strange. What are they?"

"Escape pods. They are very cautious ship designers."

"And cautious when it comes to treaty terms," Commander Darnell said, from across the room. "I hope they don't wish to make changes at the last minute and delay the signing."

"It is of no consequence," his father said, returning from the cockpit. "Their planet and its resources are already ours. This treaty is merely a legal formality to pacify the Senate."

"Do you anticipate any resistance?" the commander asked.

His father was silent for a moment. Their shuttle had passed through the hangar bay doors, and was currently undergoing the landing procedures.

"I do not sense any overt hostility," he said, eventually, "and no intent of attack. If they intended to resist, it makes no tactical sense to do so on a civilian ship so close to the Imperial capital."

"If they should, my fleet is ready at a moment's notice," Admiral Reallis said, turning away from the viewpoint. "Troops are waiting to board and take this ship by force, if need be."

"Good."

Luke looked between the adults in surprise. This conversation made it sound as if the Abyssians had no desire to join the Empire, and they were essentially being forced to sign a treaty. It was quite a different image from the one the vast, lavish parties had given him. Perhaps that was the idea.

There was a slight bump as the ship came in to land, and Luke moved over to his father as the other passengers lined up beside the boarding ramp.

"Stay close beside me," his father said to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to move him forward. "You and I will be introduced to the Abyssians by Commander Darnell. Follow my lead."

Luke nodded, feeling his throat grow tight. He hoped he wouldn't have to speak—his voice would likely come out as a squeak if he tried to speak now.

It took quite a while for everyone to get in order. The stormtrooper guards were the first to depart, then the diplomats, followed by the admiral. Finally, his father moved to exit the shuttle, and Luke trailed close behind. He immediately felt self-conscious at the sight of the gathered crowd, and he tried to edge his way to a place where he wouldn't be seen. His father would have none of that, however, and kept a hand on him, to ensure he remained close.

The Imperial diplomats, and their counterpart Abyssians, began several long greeting speeches, and Luke took the time to take a glance at the royals. They were easy to spot. The queen was wearing an elaborate, sparkling gown, and a headdress, while the king was dressed in deep blue robes that complemented his feathery mane. The prince and princess stood nearby, looking as regal as their parents.

Luke swallowed, hoping he wouldn't have to say more than a couple of words to them. At first glance, it appeared he would have even less in common with them than he did with Ophelia.

Once the speeches were finished, the king and queen stepped forward, and were introduced to his father. His father then gestured to him.

"This is my son, Luke Skywalker."

"An honor to meet you," the king said, offering his hand.

Luke swallowed, then accepted it. "Thank you, your highness," he said, shakily. He was sure his hand must feel like the 'dead fish' handshake his father had warned him against.

The queen smiled at him, in a motherly kind of way. "Perhaps my son and daughter could interest your son in a tour of the ship," she said. "All this diplomacy must be tiresome for the youth."

Luke brightened at the queen's words, and looked eagerly towards his father.

"That is acceptable," he said, giving Luke a slight push towards the waiting prince and princess. Luke stepped forward. As formal and regal as his hosts looked, Luke knew an hour with them touring the ship would be far more interesting than an hour spent at his father's side, keeping still. Even if they didn't have anything in common.

His father and the other adults departed for the main exit to the hangar bay, while the prince and princess led him towards the elevators. Once they were out of earshot of the adults, the princess looked back at him.

"Your name is Luke, right? I'm not sure if I heard correctly."

"That's right," Luke said. "And you are ...?"

"Lilly," she answered, "and that's my brother, Viani."

"Hi," Viani said, pressing the elevator button.

Luke breathed a sigh of relief. First names ... informality ... this was looking better by the moment.

"I bet you're glad to get away from the adults," Lilly said, stepping back to allow him to enter the lift first.

"Are you kidding?" Luke said. "I thought I was going to have to listen to all that political talk for an hour."

"So did we," Viani said. "But we managed to talk our way out of it, when we heard you were coming. Bridge first, is that okay?"

"Whatever you say," Luke said. "I've never been on a ship like this before."

Lilly leaned back against the wall of the elevator, and then tugged at her collar. "I wish we could take these off," she said. "It's so tight."

"I know what you mean," Luke said. "I'm more comfortable in a pair of mechanics coveralls."

"Yes, but try wearing that to a formal occasion and the adults get all uptight," Lilly sighed.

"I know," Luke said, nodding in agreement.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a busy control center. Luke was just wondering if they were really allowed on the bridge, when the officer standing at the nearest station gave Viani a salute. "Your highness."

Viani returned it, and then gestured at Luke. "This is one of our Imperial guests."

Luke hesitated, slightly taken aback. He'd never been called an Imperial before. Strange, how people like Abi Reallis saw him as outside the circle, where as this prince saw him as very much a part of its boundaries.

The officers all turned around to stare at him, and Luke had the strange feeling of being the only human in the room. But they smiled and said hello, and stood aside to let him see all the various control panels. Viani paused beside a station with two officers, on the right side of the navigation display.

"This is weapons control. It may look like a pleasure cruiser, but it's got bite where it counts."

"How much bite?" Luke asked, looking over the display.

"Enough."

"Enough to fight a Star Destroyer?" Luke asked.

Three of the officers turned to look at him, and Viani gave him a bemused look. "Why? Is one going to attack us?"

"No!" Luke raised his hands, feeling the sting of embarrassment. "I just …" He took a deep breath. "It's just something we like to talk about at school. Which ship would win in a fight … I swear I didn't mean anything by it."

Viani shared an amused look with his sister, who then came to Luke's rescue.

"What would you like to see next, Luke? The torpedo tubes? The blaster arrays?"

Luke smiled, seeing the joke. "How about somewhere fun?"

"Will do," Lilly said, leading the way to the elevator.

Over the next hour, Luke saw many sights which made him gasp in wonder. First there was the conservatory, complete with an artificial waterfall. Then a concert theatre, capable of seating a thousand. The tour continued with the art gallery and the aquarium. Wandering the carpeted hallways, it was easy to forget you were on a starship at all.

"I guess this is all fairly standard for you," Viani said, as they entered yet another entertainment room.

"Oh, not at all," Luke said.

"Where do you live?" Lilly asked.

"At the Imperial Palace," Luke said. "But the part I stay in isn't like this."

Luke glanced around at the new room they had entered and realized it was a gymnasium. Exercise equipment lined the floor, and soothing music played in the background. As Luke's eyes swept around the room, he spied something which made his heart leap.

"Is that a beep ball table?" Luke asked, pointing.

"Yes, it was a gift from the Imperial diplomats a few months ago," Viani said, picking up one of the bats. "They saw we had a similar game on Abyssia and wanted to share this. Do you want a game?"

Luke was already walking over. "I have to play with droids at home," he explained. "No brothers or sisters to play with, see."

"We have time for maybe one or two games," Lilly said. "We were supposed to go and join the party soon."

"I'll take whatever we can squeeze in," Luke said, picking up a bat.

"I'm up first," Viani said, assuming a position opposite Luke.

Luke returned his serve and quickly fell into the rhythm of the game. Viani was a good player, but Luke could tell early on that he wouldn't offer a challenge. Therefore, it was a relaxed game, and Luke found he didn't need to move very much to return Viani's volleys. Fairly soon, the score-keeping terminal played a victory tune, indicating Luke had won the set.

"Ha! My turn!" Lilly said, diving to get the bat from her brother.

"I'm going to get some water," Viani said. "I'll warn you, Luke—Lilly is much better than me."

"It was a good game," Luke said. "You're much better than my droid, that's for sure."

Viani grinned at him as he left, and Luke breathed out in relief. He seemed to have forgotten about his comment about the weapons on the bridge.

"So who is older?" Luke asked, serving the ball to Lilly.

"He is, but only by a year," she said, twisting to return the ball. "I'm more mature though."

Luke smiled. He'd never realized a princess could be so warm and friendly. She had a natural inner confidence that showed itself in every graceful move she made. It reminded Luke of his father's theorizing, about the connection between inner confidence and posture. Whatever that elusive sense of self-worth was, Lilly certainly had it.

Luke sighed as the ball went sailing past his face, and he ran to retrieve it.

"And you seemed so focused when you were playing Viani," Lilly said. "Is something distracting you?"

"Not at all," Luke said with a grin. This time, he was going to concentrate fully, and hope to the stars that Lilly's inner confidence wouldn't prove his downfall in this game. Otherwise, he hoped it was catching.

* * *

The treaty signing took place with no complications, and then the Imperial entourage was invited to the main ballroom, to try some of the finest selections of Abyssian champagne. Vader was content to observe the celebration from the upper level, being unable to try the food and drink himself.

The young prince and princess returned shortly after, with Luke close behind. His face was slightly red, and they were all smiling, so it appeared the tour had been a success. They all immediately went to the buffet, but Luke looked around until he spotted him.

 _Did you have a good time?_ Vader sent. The food was being served on the lower floor, over the other side of the room, so there was a fair distance between them.

It took Luke a moment, but soon he managed to concentrate enough to reply. _Yes. This ship is amazing. I saw a swimming pool, and a zoo, and a museum and ..._ Luke faltered in his transmission of the thought, and it trailed off into a vague feeling of satisfaction.

_We will leave soon. You may finish eating and then come and find me._

Vader sensed the queen approaching and steeled himself in anticipation of small talk. The queen was vaguely disturbing to him, bringing back memories he didn't know he still carried. Not that she looked anything like _her_ , of course, but that regal air seemed a galactic constant among queens.

"I see our children are skipping the main and going straight to the dessert," she said, gesturing to the far corner of the lower floor.

Vader noticed Luke cutting himself an excessively large slab of cake, and was tempted to send him an admonishment, but he decided to let it go. Luke could do with some more physical substance.

"As long as it is not the champagne," he said.

The queen laughed. "Yes, we have had to speak with our children about that. They think it makes them look older, of course. I don't mind them having a sip or two at a family gathering, but definitely not in public. The tabloids would twist it into a headline."

"Luke has thus far expressed no interest," Vader said. "For which I am grateful."

"There are no small blessings, in the realm of parenthood," the queen said.

Vader couldn't help but wonder at how true that was. He continued to watch Luke for a moment, before being distracted by the arrival of a group of brightly uniformed men and women, through the main doors of the ballroom.

"The royal aerial dancers," the queen explained. "They have been invited to perform at this event, later on this afternoon."

"I regret I will have to miss it," Vader said, turning to the queen. "I must return to the capital. The other members of our entourage will stay, however."

"I am sorry to hear it," the queen said. "Your presence has been a great honor."

Vader was about to reply, when he felt someone tugging wildly at his cape. He turned in surprise, only to find Luke had appeared beside him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I ... I need to ask you something!" Luke insisted.

Vader studied him for a moment, wondering what request would make his son look at him so pleadingly. Perhaps the great champagne question had finally arrived.

He excused himself to the queen, and then led Luke away, out of earshot.

"I know this is a big ask," Luke said, on the way. "But _please_ say yes!"

"First," Vader said, pointing at his son. "When you want my attention, say 'excuse me'. Do not tug on my clothing like a toddler."

"Oh," Luke said. "Okay. This ... this hasn't canceled this out, has it? I'm still passing so far, right?"

Vader considered it. He was gradually coming to the conclusion that he was never going to get social perfection from this son, and he would have to overlook a few minor mistakes, if they were ever going to be free of these torturous trials.

"Apart from that, you are doing well," he said. "Now, what is it you wanted to ask?"

"You know how you said we had to leave soon?" Luke said.

"Yes."

"Would it be all right if I stayed a bit longer? I could come back to Coruscant with Commander Darnell."

"Why would you want to stay?"

"The prince and princess asked me to."

"I do not think that would be a good idea. Commander Darnell and the other diplomats have a job to do—she cannot be responsible for your supervision."

"I don't need supervising!" Luke insisted. "I'm almost fourteen! Besides, I wanted to see more of the ship."

"You have already been for a tour of the ship, Son. You will have to give me a better excuse than that. Preferably, the truth."

Luke turned slightly red and looked aside. His behavior made Vader even more curious. There was clearly something more to Luke's request, which he was reluctant to divulge.

"You're going to laugh at me," his son mumbled, eventually.

"When have I ever done that?"

"You know what I mean. All right—it's the princess."

Vader was still confused for a moment, before everything became clear. He should have known.

"I thought girls were, and I quote, 'a strange alien species'," he said, not without amusement.

Luke shrugged, looking away. "She plays a mean game of beep-ball, for one thing."

"Truly an admirable asset."

"Okay, here's where you laugh," Luke said, looking at the floor. "We were playing earlier and ... she totally creamed me. Yes, I was beaten at beep ball by a _princess_."

Vader looked aside at the words, knowing that in another lifetime, he would indeed be laughing right now. Not at the fact, but at his son's attitude towards this. His naive, young offspring clearly had a lot to learn about royalty.

"But here's the good news," Luke said, looking up. "She's offered me a re-match. I can take her this time, I know I can. You have to give me the chance. Pleeeeeease?"

Vader released a weary breath at Luke's tone and knew he was more than likely going to give in. Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he knew he would never have let a princess beat him at any game of skill when he was Luke's age. The part of him that still remembered that foolish young man wanted to say yes to Luke. However, the seasoned, mature parent part of him was clearly saying no.

"How long will this game take?" he asked, eventually.

"I don't know," Luke said. "If it's close, it might go on for an hour. Besides, they have to stay at the party for at least another half-hour—their father said so—so we can't play until then."

"I don't like this," Vader said, pointing at his son. "But if this is that important to you, then you may stay."

Luke instantly brightened and made to run off, but Vader held him steady.

"When you have finished this game, you will immediately proceed to the docking bay, and the shuttle pilot will take you back to Coruscant."

"Okay," Luke said. "I'll see you later on this evening, then."

"I expect you to be on your best behavior," Vader continued. "How you behave will reflect on the Empire. Do not give them any reason to regret inviting you to stay."

"Of course not!" Luke said.

"If you see or hear anything which makes you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you must promise me you will get on that shuttle and leave immediately, regardless of whether you have finished this game."

"Sure."

"Leave your comlink on," Vader said. "I may check in on you."

"I will," Luke said. "Stop worrying—these are nice people!"

Vader released his grip on Luke, somewhat reluctantly. He knew he had to let his son do things on his own from time to time, but it was difficult. Parenting was a constant struggle between letting go and holding on. He had chosen to let go now, but was this a time he should be holding on?

"I'll be fine," Luke insisted, with a grin. "See you later."

"Goodbye, Son."

Luke ran back down the grand staircase to join his new friends, leaving Vader staring after him. He shifted towards the railing, so he could continue to watch him. He really should think about leaving soon, but a few more minutes couldn't hurt.

"You have a wonderful relationship with your son, Lord Vader."

Vader looked up, to find the queen was still there. She was smiling behind her glass.

 _I wish that were so_ , Vader thought. He didn't speak the thought out loud, though. Their relationship was nobody's business but their own, after all.

Although, he couldn't help but wonder how a relationship which had been in serious danger of falling apart yesterday could now appear so solid to an outsider. Perhaps he was doing the right thing, after all. Occasionally, at least.

"I must depart," he said, finally.

* * *

Luke couldn't help but feel excited when he felt his father's presence leave the ship. It felt good to be released from his constant appraisal at one of these parties. Made him feel ... older, somehow. He was here of his own accord now, not simply as his father's son.

"Hey, Luke," Viani said, pointing at the dessert table. "Dare you to eat that last slice of triple layer crystal cake."

Luke moaned, holding his stomach.

Viani laughed.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it!" Luke said, moving towards the table. "I'll halve it with you."

"Sure," Viani said, handing him a knife.

Lilly returned from topping her glass, in time to see the last crumbs of the cake disappear from Luke's plate.

"You didn't eat _another_ slice, did you?"

Luke could only nod.

"You're never going to win at beep ball with all that cake inside you," Lilly said.

"That's the idea, Lilly," Viani said. "I'm helping you out here. Luke, dare you to eat another blumfruit."

"I've had enough of your dares," Luke said. "Where's the refresher?"

Lilly offered to show him, and then led him through the crowd toward the far door.

"It's been half an hour," she said, pointing the way to the end of the corridor. "Last on your right. When you come back, we'll go and play."

"Looking forward to winning," Luke said, with a grin.

"So am I," she said, returning his smile.

Luke walked on, and found the right door. Upon entering, he paused for a few seconds to gaze around in wonder. A refresher? This was more like another ballroom.

After using the facilities, he approached the basin nervously. It was all so clean, the thought of washing his cake-stained hands in there seemed wrong somehow. Still, that's what it was meant for.

On his way out, someone entered the door just as he stepped in front of it, and they collided. It was an Abyssian.

"Sorry," the man said, holding the door open for Luke. He was dressed in robes similar in design to those of the king, but less elaborate. "Are you all right?"

"Sure," Luke said. "It was nothing." He quickly walked on, and the door closed behind him. Once back in the corridor, he paused for a moment, and glanced back towards the refresher door. _Are you all right?_ That tone, that voice ... it was familiar, somehow. But where had he heard it? A holovid show? An overheard conversation?

An image surfaced in his mind ... a cloaked figure, an outstretched hand ... _are you all right?_

The Emperor's meeting! That's where he heard that voice before!

His father had said the man was an ISB agent who had infiltrated the Abyssian royal family. Looking back, he should have realized this meant he must be Abyssian himself. The idea that the Imperial Security Bureau had actually recruited an Abyssian to work for them, and help them take control of the planet, made him feel even more uncomfortable than the discussion about this planet in the shuttle.

He blinked a few times and focused on Lilly, who was walking towards him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said.

"Maybe I did," Luke said. "This ship isn't haunted, is it?"

"Only by my brother. Why, what happened?"

Luke looked down. Now that he'd actually met the Abyssian royal family, the idea of someone working for them while really reporting back to ISB made him feel even worse. But there was nothing to be done about it.

More words resurfaced in this mind—this time, words his father had spoken before he left.

_If you see or hear anything which makes you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you must promise me you will get on that shuttle and leave immediately._

_This doesn't count_ , Luke told the memory. _This is the way your government operates that's making me uncomfortable._

Besides, the game would be over soon, and he'd be leaving anyway. He couldn't afford to be distracted this time, so it was best just to put it out of his mind.

* * *

Vader was feeling somewhat melancholy as he flew back into Coruscant's atmosphere. His emotions were troubling him. If he was feeling vaguely disturbed at the notion of leaving his son on board the Abyssian ship for an hour, how was he going to cope when Luke eventually became an adult and went off on dangerous missions on his own? Being a Sith Lord did not have a long life expectancy, despite a few notable examples.

Was this something every parent went through, or was he simply over-protective and overly anxious? Was he no better than the paranoid Abyssians who wouldn't let their young people out in public with strangers?

Considering the fate of other members of his family, he supposed he had a right to be. But that didn't make the feelings any easier to cope with.

When he eventually left the ship, he found Commander Darnell's assistant waiting to greet him. This lieutenant had been with her earlier, but had left shortly before his own departure.

"My lord, we are ready for final approval on the first stage of the Abyssian project," she said. "Governor Halifax has signed off this morning."

"Very well."

Vader began to walk towards the main command centre, but abruptly, he turned back.

"Contact Commander Darnell and tell her to arrange for my son to be returned to Coruscant immediately."

The lieutenant's surprise was clear in the Force, but it didn't show on her face.

"At once, my lord."

Luke would be upset, but he would recover. His son may be ready for this level of independence, but it was clear his father needed more time.

* * *

"So do you like being a princess?" Luke asked, as he served the ball to Lilly.

"No." She returned the ball with a spin, but Luke saw it coming, and moved to compensate.

"Why not?"

"Do you like being part of the Imperial leadership?"

The ball bounced back and forth a few times, until it hit the wall on Lilly's side. Luke grinned as his score increased.

"I'm not part of it really," he said. "But I don't like the attention. Everyone expects you to be perfect."

"That's why I don't like being a princess. My parents are so protective, too. You know they didn't even want us to see any of the Imperials."

Luke grinned. "I heard. Hopefully I'm not too strange."

"Not at all," Lilly said. "I think you humans are kind of cute actually."

Luke was so distracted by Lilly's remark, the ball flew straight under his arm, causing her to smirk. The score was even again.

 _She didn't mean that personally_ , Luke told himself. _She's just talking about humans in general. They're not even allowed to have relationships outside their species._

He was really going to have to learn to concentrate or this game would end tragically. It was his serve now, and Lilly returned it easily. Then Luke returned it with a spin. Lilly stepped sideways, anticipating its crooked bounce. She clearly didn't expect it to bounce off to the left, however, because it sailed right past her and bounced into the side wall.

"What the? How did you do that!?"

Luke grinned. "Reverse-spin. I busted my droid's arm with that move last week."

"Show me again."

"Maybe after," Luke said, grinning as he took the lead. He waited patiently for Lilly to retrieve the ball, trying to think of any other ways he could impress the princess. Maybe he could try hitting it so it just bounced on the corner of the table, without room to spare. It would take a lot of concentration and—

Luke blinked in surprise as the ball suddenly went sailing right past him.

"Hey! I wasn't ready!"

Luke shook his head in disbelief as he ran to retrieve it. The ball continued to skid and bounce until it came to rest against the doors. As he bent down to pick it up, a strange feeling settled in his gut. Similar to how he felt when thinking about that Abyssian ISB agent. Except this was stronger. It almost felt like ... _danger!_

Luke turned, abandoning the ball. "Lilly!" he shouted, in warning.

Behind him, the doors slid open with a loud hiss. Lilly dived under the table, leaving him in no doubt that their visitors weren't friendly. He turned to find two armed Abyssians, wearing black helmets which partially covered their faces.

They wasted no time with words, quickly spreading out and closing in on his position. He ran low and tried to dodge, but they were too quick. Within a minute, one had his arms held behind his back. He struggled violently, until some gas was sprayed into his face, and he felt himself blacking out.

A burst of fear gave him a momentary strength, but he could feel his body giving up.

In his final seconds of consciousness, he couldn't help but wish he had listened to his father.

* * *

They were barely five minutes into the presentation on the Abyssian project, when Vader felt the warning. A sudden tremor in the Force, tied up with a presence which had never left his mind.

_Son ..._

"There is a problem on the Abyssian ship," he stated, cutting off an increasingly technical description of a defense budget.

The officers looked at each, and the one began to say, "My lord, we have received no such—"

"My lord, we have received no such report," an ensign began, carefully.

Vader raised a hand and cut the man off with merely the threat of choking. "As I said, there is a problem on the Abyssian ship. Contact our delegation immediately and request a status report."

The lieutenant picked up her comlink, and flicked a switch. The only response was the whine of a blocked channel.

"The communications have been jammed." There was genuine surprise in her voice. Vader had seen too many situations like this to take any chances, however. He shifted over to a nearby window, hoping a visual connection to the sky would help him get a better sense of his son. He sent a mental enquiry, but the sensation on the other end of the bond was cloudy and muted. His temper flared, causing a small crack to spread in the glass from the corner of the window pane. If they had harmed one single hair on his son's head ...

The sound of his comlink cut into his thoughts, preventing the precise articulation of exactly what the consequences would be. He clicked it on, and a blue hologram of a navy captain appeared.

"Lord Vader! Captain Brarne, sir, on the _Guardian_. We have just received a partial transmission from Admiral Reallis. It sounds like trouble on the Abyssian ship."

"You have an Interdictor in position?"

The captain nodded. "Yes, sir. We had one standing by as a precautionary measure. There is no way that ship can escape into hyperspace"

"Good. Send a boarding party and deploy the fleet in order to disable that ship at a moment's notice. I am on my way."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Luke groaned slightly, shifting his hand to his stomach. It felt like there was a black hole down there, eating him up from the inside.

"He's coming around!"

Luke winced at the shout, and opened his eyes to seek the source.

It was one of the masked men who had attacked him in the games room. This one had a grey helmet that pushed his mane flat and had slots for his ears.

"Watch him—we'll need him soon."

The reply came from a comlink. Luke shuffled up onto his elbows and looked around. They were in a comfortable office, and he was lying on a couch. Grey Helmet was sitting a few meters away, with his blaster resting on the desk.

Luke became nervous at the sight of it. That blaster could only mean one thing—he was being held hostage. His father hadn't exactly covered this situation during his social lessons. What was he supposed to do?

"Who are you?" Luke asked, deciding some answers couldn't hurt. "What do you want with me? And where's Lilly and the other royals?"

The man didn't reply.

"My father is going to go crazy when he finds out about this," Luke said.

"That's what we're counting on."

"He doesn't negotiate," Luke said. "Under any circumstances. Believe me, I've tried."

"You think he'd rather see you dead?"

Luke flinched, seeing the man's point. He shuffled down to the far end of the couch, putting as much distance between the blaster and himself as possible. _They won't kill me_ , Luke reassured himself. _They need me alive to get whatever it is they want_.

Somehow, his reasoning wasn't making him feel any better, though.

A loud bang, followed by shaking, caused both he and Grey Helmet to jump in fright. It sounded like they were under fire. The man turned around to look out the viewport, and Luke saw his chance. He bolted for the door.

"Hey!"

Luke slammed his fist down on the door release, praying desperately that it would be unlocked.

Surprisingly, it was. Luke turned sideways to slip through the door gap as it opened and then ran as fast as he could. He only traveled a few meters past the doorframe before he barreled into the chest of someone standing on the other side. Strong arms gripped him, preventing any further escape, and the click of a blaster being loaded sounded behind him.

Luke looked up into his new captor's face, only to see a black visor, with his own distorted reflection looking back at him.

The gaze was held for a few seconds, before he was pushed back into the office. His captor followed him.

"Put the blaster down—he's just a kid," Black Visor said, walking past the other man, and making Luke sit behind the desk. His authoritative tone made Luke think he must be the leader.

Luke glanced back at the door, but there was the sound of a reinforced lock.

"What was that noise?" Grey Helmet asked, lowering his blaster. He didn't put it down, though. His stance made Luke suspect he didn't share the other's opinion that he was 'just' a kid.

"Just more warning shots from the Imperials. They agreed to a ceasefire to give us the opportunity to communicate our demands. Vader himself is contacting us, so keep his kid quiet."

Grey Helmet reached out to grip his arm, but Luke shook him off, angrily. He made another attempt, and after a brief scuffle, Luke found himself with Grey Helmet's hand across his mouth, and one arm twisted behind his back.

The leader, Black Visor, looked on. "Behave yourself, and I'll let you talk to your father," he said to Luke. "You can tell him you're frightened, and you want this to be over."

Luke made an angry noise, indicating he wouldn't do anything of the kind.

Black Visor watched him until the holo projector hummed and lit up with a blue image of his father.

"Greetings, Lord Vader," he said, immediately shifting so he was in the field. "Thank you for taking the time to hear us out."

"Where is my son?" his father demanded.

Luke made as much noise as the hand across his mouth allowed, but he doubted his father would be able to hear it.

"He's right here," Black Visor said. "You can see him if you like." He indicated to Grey Helmet to release Luke, which he did with a rough push towards the holo field.

Black Visor shifted over to make room for him, and Luke stepped into his father's field of view.

"Father!"

"Luke. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. They knocked me out with some kind of gas, but it's worn off now. I woke up and—"

Black Visor gave Luke a push towards Grey Helmet, cutting off the conversation.

"All right, you've seen him. He's fine, just frightened."

"I am not!" Luke yelled, before Grey Helmet covered his mouth again. He was fairly certain his father would have heard that, though.

"I'll make this brief," Black Visor continued. "Over the past three months, members of groups and organizations opposed to this Imperial invasion of Abyssia have disappeared. We want them back—all of them. I've prepared a list of the people concerned for your convenience."

"It will take some time to determine the whereabouts and arrange transport for the people you refer to."

"Our intelligence data has already determined they are being held on Coruscant. I think two hours is a reasonable time frame to gather them up."

"Would you be willing to exchange my son for another hostage?"

"The Empire would regard anyone else as an acceptable loss."

"What about myself?"

Black Visor seemed taken aback for a moment. He glanced towards Grey Helmet, who nodded enthusiastically.

"No!" Luke tried again to break free, but only succeeded in hurting his arm.

"Give us a moment to discuss this," Black Visor said.

"Very well."

The comlink was momentarily disabled, and Black Visor turned back to Grey Helmet.

"That is too good an opportunity to pass up!" Grey Helmet insisted. "The publicity it would generate alone would do more good than—"

"It's dangerous," Black Visor replied. "It could be a trap."

Luke tried to speak, but his words came out as muffled garble.

"It's worth the risk!" Grey Helmet insisted.

"We don't know enough about his abilities," Black Visor said. "We don't know what is exaggerated, and what is fact. They say blasters mean nothing to him."

"They said the same about the Jedi. Where are they now?"

"Destroyed by the Sith," Black Visor said, pointedly.

Grey Helmet relented, and the leader reactivated the comlink.

"We have decided to decline your offer," he said. "But you needn't worry about your son. As long as you give us what we want in two hours."

"And during that time, I have your assurance my son will remain unharmed?"

"You have my word."

"Very well. Transmit the list of people, and I will contact you again when they have been found."

"I'll look forward to hearing from you."

Black Visor cut the call, and pressed a few buttons on a nearby terminal. He then turned to Grey Helmet, and they exchanged a look.

"I don't like it," Grey Helmet said. "The kid told me earlier that Vader never negotiates. This could all be some Sith-hell trap to stall for time."

"Or it could be genuine. This is his son we're talking about."

Luke looked from one to the other, wondering himself. His father had seemed co-operative ... he didn't even make any death threats. Very unusual, for him. Maybe he was planning something ...

"We'll wait and see," Black Visor said, as he stood up to leave. "Stay alert. The other Imperial prisoners have been rowdy—I wouldn't put it past one of them to try something."

"Should we keep the kid in here?"

"Why not? Just remember to keep the door locked this time." The leader left the room, leaving Luke and Grey Helmet alone.

Grey Helmet took the seat at the desk and leaned back, tapping his fingers against the armrests. Luke looked around for a while, before placing himself back on the couch. Nothing to do but wait for something to happen ...

Surprisingly, something happened a lot sooner than he had expected. He had scarcely sat down, before he felt a familiar presence tug at his mind.

_Luke?_

_Father!_

_Good. You can hear me. Now, pay attention._

_I'm listening,_ Luke sent. _What's your plan?_ _What do you want me to do?_

_Stay put. Do exactly as they tell you—don't give them any trouble. Don't, under any circumstances, make any attempt to escape. It is too dangerous._

Luke sighed. He should've expected as much. His father thought he was a helpless child.

He saw Grey Helmet watching him curiously, and he quickly lay down on the couch as if planning a nap, to avoid suspicion.

_What are you going to do?_

_I am going to find a solution. Don't be afraid—you will be safe as soon as possible._

_I'm not afraid,_ Luke sent.

His father was rightly skeptical, but he did not say anything, to Luke's relief.

_I must go and speak with the Emperor. If anything should happen, you know how to contact me._

_Okay ... Father?_

_What?_

_In case anything happens ... I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pressuring you to let me stay. You were right to be worried. This is all my fault ... I should have come back with you._

_Son, last I knew of it, you did not have the ability to foresee the future. You could not have anticipated this. What's done is done._

_But ..._

_We will talk more when we are reunited._

_Bye,_ Luke sent, somewhat reluctantly.

_Goodbye for now._

Luke felt the link dissolve and their separation was like a physical pain.

 _How did I ever think we weren't really father and son_ , he thought, rubbing his head. When they were reunited … if they were reunited … he would make sure his father understood.

* * *

"I really fail to see the problem here, Lord Vader," the Emperor said, sounding bored.

Vader frowned to himself. His master was being somewhat ... difficult.

"This incident will reflect badly on us, master," Vader said. "If it can be shown our security can be compromised so easily, then—"

"Really, Lord Vader. You don't imagine this was the result of some security mishap?"

"You knew about this." It wasn't a question. Everything was starting to make sense in Vader's mind, even as the Emperor began to explain.

"Our insider organized this little hostage drama. Conveniently, he has gained the trust of both the royal family and those Abyssians opposed to our presence. They are both easily manipulated."

"You feel having the royal family held hostage by terrorist Abyssians will generate more instability on Abyssia?"

"Not simply held hostage, Lord Vader ... they will be killed, and quite spectacularly, I might add. A planet in mourning for its leaders will be easily suppressed."

Vader had to admit it was a near perfect plan. Removing the existing leaders, while setting up their own ... his master's plans were always like this.

Except, this time, there was an unforeseen complication.

"But what of my son?" Vader asked. "Will he be safe?"

"I can make no guarantee of that. I still cannot understand why you left the child aboard the ship in the first place. You are fortunate he wasn't assassinated immediately by a disgruntled Abyssian."

 _I wouldn't have if I'd known what you were planning_ , Vader thought, annoyed.

"I did not foresee this, master," Vader said out loud.

"I didn't regard this incident as worthy of your attention, my friend. I had heard you were leaving the ship as soon as the treaty was signed, and moving on to other matters of more importance. But what's done is done. Now, you will simply have to wait and see if the boy survives. We cannot do anything that would cause the hostage-takers to abandon their mission."

"What if I arranged to rescue him? The traitors would still have the royal family and the other Imperials as prisoners. The spy will no doubt reassure them that they don't need my son to continue their mission."

"You overestimate the usefulness of the boy, Lord Vader," the Emperor said. "Why would you go to so much trouble?"

Vader was silent, suspecting his master already knew the answer.

"I believe you have two hours," the Emperor said, waving a dismissive hand. "But I should warn you—the spy is under strict orders to immediately proceed with the execution if the hostage-takers begin to have second thoughts. It is doubtful that anyone left on the ship will still be alive once his mission is complete."

The Emperor cut the call, and Vader stared at the blank projector in frustration. This could all be over in an hour if they simply handed over what the hostage-takers wanted and left the royal family in place. After all, what was a hundred prisoners in the grand scheme of things? They could easily be recaptured. The Emperor could order the spy to withdraw, and leave this entire mission for another day.

Still, at least his master had given him the opportunity to get Luke off the ship. He should be grateful for that.

He turned and left the communications vault, and found Captain Brarne waiting for him outside.

"Will we proceed with locating the prisoners, sir?"

"No. The Emperor has made it clear that we will not be meeting their demands."

"What are your orders then, sir?"

"Gather your senior staff. We will need to formulate a rescue plan."

"How long do we have, sir?" the captain asked, struggling to keep up with his frantic pace.

"Two hours," Vader said, pointedly.

* * *

Luke woke up with a start. It only took a second for him to take in the situation—someone was dropping down through the roof, blaster in hand.

Grey Helmet dived for his comlink, but he was too slow. In another second, he was backed up in the corner with his hands up. The new arrival fired off a stun shot, causing the Abyssian to slump against the wall. The man then turned to face Luke.

"Admiral Reallis?" Luke could hardly believe it. "Where did you come from?"

"Hello, Luke. Help me tie this guy up—he won't stay out for long."

Luke obliged, breaking off the cord from a nearby lamp.

"Where is the royal family?" he asked, as the admiral began binding the guard to the desk.

"They're holding everyone down in the main ballroom. Some of the Abyssians seem quite sympathetic to their cause, and the royals are trying to negotiate."

"They want some prisoners released," Luke explained. "They talked to my father. They gave him two hours to gather them up."

"We'll be out of here well before then," the admiral said, stepping back from the bound and gagged Abyssian. He picked up the blaster and tossed it to Luke. "Let's get going. There are service tunnels throughout the ship. I hope you're not claustrophobic."

"Anything to get out of here!" Luke said, inspecting the blaster.

Before he followed the admiral back up into the roof, he couldn't help but remember his father's last instructions. _Don't, under any circumstances, make any attempt to escape._

 _This doesn't count,_ Luke insisted, climbing up onto a chair and dragging himself up into the hole. Besides, this was exciting. He'd never been a fugitive before.

"Follow me and stay as quiet as possible," the admiral whispered, in front of him. "I'm not sure how soundproof these tunnels are."

"Sure," Luke whispered back. "Where are we going?"

"To the escape pods," the admiral said.

"Good choice."

* * *

Vader had placed himself in front of the bridge observation windows, and was eyeing the Abyssian ship with an ominous melancholy.

The so-called 'plans' the officers had come up with had all involved some risk to his son. Any risk was completely unacceptable, as far as he was concerned. There had to be a solution somewhere in this mess, if only he could focus enough to find it. But instead, all he could think about was how terrible it would be to lose his son. Especially through his own stupidity.

It was like torture... there he was, only a few kilometers away from him, yet he was quite unable to protect him.

When he was a Jedi, he had planned and executed hundreds of rescue missions, often with a substantial amount of risk. It had never bothered him before ... in fact, he had _enjoyed_ the risk and thrilled at the thought of beating the odds. What had happened to make him so incapacitated now? Was it maturity, which had stripped him of his aptitude for spontaneous plans and reckless willingness to carry them out? Or was it fatherhood, his new role as the guardian, caregiver and protector of his offspring that made him consider his every action in a new responsible light.

He glared at the ship, becoming increasingly agitated. One mistake ... one tiny mistake, and look at what it had cost him. If he got Luke back in one piece ... he would never let him out of his sight again.

"Lord Vader?"

Vader turned, seeing the ship's captain. Strange, he had not sensed his approach.

"We just received a message from Admiral Reallis sir ... he has escaped the hostage-takers, and he says he has your son."

"Through the holocom?"

"No, sir ... in a somewhat more traditional method."

* * *

"This is a code?" Luke asked in disbelief.

They had dropped out of the service tunnels, and were in a small observation room. Out the window, Luke could see several Star Destroyers, only a couple of klicks away. Admiral Reallis was flicking the lights on and off, in a pattern Luke couldn't make head or tail of.

"A very old navy code," Admiral Reallis explained. "They used this back in the days of sailing ships."

"Didn't they have comlinks?"

"They had something similar called 'radio', but you couldn't always guarantee it would work."

"I just hope someone is looking out the window," Luke said, pressing himself against the glass.

"So do I."

"What are you telling them?"

"That you and I are going to eject from one of the escape pods. We're going to need a pick-up, and fast, before these insurgents can warm up their guns."

Luke considered whether or not to tell Admiral Reallis that he and his father were capable of communicating, but then decided against it. Not even the Emperor knew about that. It wasn't something he should share with a stranger, except in an emergency, and this wasn't an emergency. Not yet, anyhow.

"Now to find the nearest escape pod," the admiral said, consulting a schematic on the wall. "There's eight of them not too far away, but we need to get back in the service tunnels. We're going to need to give the Guardian at least ten minutes to organise our pickup." He glanced at Luke. "How're you doing?"

"I'm ready for anything," Luke said, already climbing up the handholds in the wall to return to the tunnel. "Just tell me where to go."

"How about you let me go first," he said, sounding amused. Luke had to shuffle back at the top to allow him through. As he led the path onwards, he mumbled, "The adventurous type."

"Who, me?" Luke said, with mock surprise.

"I bet it irks your father."

"Yeah," Luke said. "He would rather have me living in a bunker being safe. But I say sitting in a bunker being safe isn't living at all."

"It seems like he cares for you a great deal."

"I guess," Luke said. He watched the floor going past as he crawled past a vent, considering it. Was it his imagination, or did the admiral's tone sound a little disbelieving. "Why did you say 'seems'? Don't you think he does care about me? Is this _still_ about those stupid rumors, because—"

The admiral paused at the mouth of a descending ladder, and sat at the top.

"It's not that. It's just ... this may be hard for you to understand, but we in the navy only tend to see one side of your father. And that side makes it a little hard for us to imagine him having a personal life. Having a family."

"I understand," Luke said. "But he has many sides."

"I'm beginning to understand that."

Luke fidgeted for a moment. "Thanks for rescuing me," he said. "I was really surprised to see you. Especially after last night."

"I fear I was partly to blame for all that. Sometimes, Luke, adults can be as thoughtless about sharing rumors as teenagers. Especially in Coruscant political circles." He glanced at his watch. "Just a couple more minutes. Then we'll go."

"I heard you say you knew my father. During the Clone Wars," Luke said, suddenly.

The admiral looked up in surprise. "You did?"

"Yes. When you were talking with Governor Halifax. What was he like, back then?"

"So your father was the Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker?"

Luke nodded. "He left the Jedi at the same time the Empire was formed, and joined the Sith instead. I don't know everything about how that works, but apparently you have to change your name and start dressing in black. So Darth Vader is basically his Sith disguise."

The admiral looked so baffled by this, Luke added, "Don't spread that around. He really doesn't like talking about the past."

"I can understand that," the admiral said. "I don't like talking about the Clone Wars either. I lost many fine people in that war. Many of my classmates from the naval academy." He looked distant for a moment, and then said, "So do you have Force powers yourself?"

"I'm untrained," Luke said. "The Emperor only lets my father keep me around on the condition that I'm not trained to use my Force potential."

"That's a shame. It could have come in handy right now."

Luke smiled. "We're doing okay."

"Yes, we are." He checked his wrist-chrono again. "All right. Let's get out of here."

Luke started to follow the admiral down the ladder, and then came to a sudden halt.

 _Luke_? _What are you doing?_

"What is it?" Admiral Reallis asked, looked back up at him.

"Nothing," Luke said, resuming his climb. "Just thought I heard something."

The admiral didn't reply, but he pointed his blaster down the corridor, covering Luke's descent.

 _You got our message?_ Luke sent along the bond. _We should be at the escape pods any minute now._

_It's too dangerous! They could shoot you down in seconds!_

_It's dangerous here_ , Luke reasoned.

His father didn't reply in words, he simply sent a general feeling of disapproval.

Luke grinned, despite the situation. _See you soon,_ he sent, and closed off the link.

At the bottom of the ladder, they walked to the next corridor junction, and quickly looked left and right.

"Clear," the admiral said. "And I can see the escape pods. Come on!"

They ran down the corridor, and Luke never took his eyes off the escape pod hatch. Only a few more steps ...

"I just hope there's a ship waiting to pick us up," Admiral Reallis said, pulling open the hatch. "Get in, Luke."

Luke was about to do just that, when a hot red laser bolt zipped past his ear, and shattered the hatch, causing transparisteel to explode in all directions.

Luke dived to the ground and dragged himself into the escape pod. It wasn't going anywhere now, but at least it offered him some protection from their unseen attacker.

He peeked around the edge, only to see one of the grey-helmeted men. It appeared they had been found, at last.

There was an exchange of fire, and Luke guessed the admiral had shifted to safety as well. He looked down at his own blaster, trying to figure out how to use it. He hadn't fired a blaster since farm days, when helping his uncle fight off Tusken Raiders. He felt around for the safety catch, and then heard the click that meant it was ready to fire.

He took aim at the attacker and was about to shoot, when he felt some stirring in the back of his mind. The man was masked, but still ... he felt familiar, somehow. He had seen this man without the disguise ...

"Luke!" he heard the admiral yell. "Get in a pod and eject! I'll cover you!"

Luke shook his head, trying to shake off the odd sensation.

"What about you?" he yelled back.

"I'll follow afterwards. Just go!"

Luke was about to brace himself and do as the admiral said, when the masked attacker spoke up.

"Don't do it, Luke! It's a trap!"

Now that he heard the voice, Luke was sure. It was the Abyssian ISB agent, the Emperor's spy ... the one he had first 'met' at the meeting, and had seen a few hours earlier in the refresher.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's trying to kill you!" the spy yelled. "He's working with them ... he's already contacted the bridge, and they're going to shoot you down as soon as you leave the ship."

The firing stopped, making the corridor suddenly quiet.

"He's just trying to confuse you, Luke," the admiral called.

Luke stepped out of the pod, now in clear view of the man, should he wish to fire at him. He didn't, though.

"He's working for ISB," Luke said. "My father told me."

"If he was, he isn't any longer," the admiral said, not stepping out from the alcove where he'd taken cover. "For an ally, he certainly did a good job of nearly killing you a moment ago."

"I was aiming for you, traitor," the spy said, brandishing the blaster in the admiral's direction. "Luke, he's trying to kill you. Come with me, and you'll be safe."

Luke took a step towards the man, somewhat hesitantly. Was this right?

"Luke, don't be stupid," the admiral said. "If I had wanted to kill you, I could have done so anytime since I _rescued_ you. I don't know who this man is working for now, but he's lying."

 _He has a point_ , Luke thought. The admiral had been nothing but helpful so far.

"You just wanted to make it look like their fault," the spy said. "Convenient way to get rid of the kid while avoiding suspicion."

Luke glanced from one to the other, at a complete loss. Were either of them telling the truth? Blast it, he just didn't know!

"Why would I want to kill Luke?" the admiral replied. "I'm an admiral, not a power-hungry spy."

"Of course you are," the spy countered, with a sarcastic tone. "No Imperial admiral has ever made a bid for political power, after all. And what use would the Emperor's favor possibly be to an admiral?"

"I would say the favor of the navy's supreme commander would be far more useful to an admiral," came the counter-argument. "Who happens to be Luke's father."

Luke frowned. "You mean you only rescued me to curry favor with my father?!"

"Of course not," the admiral protested. "But even _that_ is a far more likely scenario than the one this man is proposing. Luke, please. Get in a pod ... I won't let him stop you."

"Yes, Luke," the spy said. "Get in a pod. I guarantee you'll be shot down as soon as you eject. But, if that's what you want ..."

Luke looked at the ceiling, wondering again why his father had never covered this situation in all his social training. He thought for a moment, until he suddenly had a brainwave.

"You go first," he said, turning to the admiral. "And give me your comlink. If you eject, and are safely picked up, then I will follow."

"Very well." The admiral bent down and slid his comlink across the deck. Luke retrieved it and turned back to the spy.

"Let him go."

The spy lowered his blaster, giving the admiral a chance to enter a nearby escape pod. With a blast of energy, the capsule shot away from the ship, and Luke quickly moved to the now vacant gap, to watch its fate. It was hard to see through the narrow viewport ... was that shuttle coming in to retrieve it, or was it simply on a patrol run?

Unfortunately, he had his back to the spy. A decision he would soon come to regret.

The first sign was when he heard the click of a loading blaster round. The second came when the man spoke.

"All right. You're coming with me, now."

Luke turned to find the spy's blaster pointed directly at him.

 _Great going_ , he thought. _You're a hostage, once again!_

As he was forced away from the escape pods, he couldn't help but wonder what his father was going to say when he found out about this. _If_ he ever found out.

* * *

"The shuttle has successfully retrieved the pod!"

Vader was already on his way to the docking bay, anticipating the update from shuttle-ops. It was good news, but he wouldn't celebrate until he could see Luke was safe for himself.

It was a long and nerve wracking elevator trip through the length of the ship. Anything could happen in the crucial minutes it would take the shuttle to dock. Anything at all.

The hissing of the opening elevator doors coincided with his sigh of relief at the sight of a safely docked shuttle.

_Son ..._

The lack of response caused Vader to move forward quickly. Was he hurt? Was he unconscious? More importantly ... where was he?

The shuttle's pilots and Admiral Reallis were walking slowly down the ramp, but his son was not among them. As they became aware of his waiting presence, the pilots backed away hastily, leaving the admiral to offer an explanation.

"Where is he?!" Vader struggled to sound impassive, but he knew he could not hope to succeed.

"On the ship—"

"You left him behind!?"

The admiral gasped for air, trying to offer more, but unable to talk through the invisible force crushing his throat. Vader struggled with his anger for a few seconds, before finally gaining enough control to release the hold. He wouldn't achieve anything by killing the man. Yet, at least.

The admiral stumbled back, gasping in much-needed air.

"He ... he wouldn't come with me," the admiral explained, quickly trying to take advantage of this respite. "There was an Abyssian claiming to be an Imperial spy. Luke seemed to know him—" He gasped for more air, as if to reassure himself he could still breathe. "I tried! I tried to get him to come with me, but he wouldn't listen!"

 _As always_ , Vader thought.

"He refused to go unless I went first ... and he said he would follow me, but he didn't. There was nothing I could do!" the admiral insisted.

"Any officer with one iota of honor would never have left him," Vader said, pointing at the man. "He's a child!"

"The spy said he had a ship ... he said he would take Luke to the ship, and get them both off safely. Perhaps he was telling the truth, sir."

Vader turned away from the admiral, having heard enough. Hadn't Luke learned anything? How could he trust a spy? How many times had he told him to—

Thinking back, Vader realized he had never actually told Luke to be wary of the Emperor's sinister agents. Politicians, yes; Grand Moffs, yes ... but one category had been left off that list. How could he be so stupid? All this worthless social training, when what he really should have been teaching his son is who to trust and who to avoid like a sandstorm.

 _Luke_ ...

Vader waited impatiently. Why wasn't he responding?!

_Luke!_

A few excruciating seconds passed, which felt like minutes to Vader, until an annoyed presence flared on the other end of the bond.

_What?_

_What are you doing?_

_Never mind._

The link dissolved, closed from the other end. Vader felt his temper rise.

_Luke! Listen to me!_

Silence. Why was he being so stubborn in such a critical situation?

_I know you can hear me, young one, and if you don't answer me—_

The link reopened in a flash.

_Don't call me that!_

_You should have gone with the admiral!_

_Oh, so now you tell me! You said_ _it was too dangerous! Make up your mind!_

_That spy does not have your best interests in mind._

_Boy, I'd never have guessed that one._

_Why, what is he doing? Where are you?_

_Forget it. You'll only get all worried and start treating me like a helpless child._

Vader mentally sighed at the tone, and unfortunately, Luke picked it up over the link.

_I don't need anymore of your useless help!_

_No, Luke, listen to me!_

But the link had dissolved. Vader turned to leave the docking bay, angrily striding towards the lifts. The admiral and the pilots were staring after him in confusion, but he wouldn't bother to provide an explanation.

_Of all the stubborn, reckless ..._

Vader entered the elevator, and pushed a button to return to the bridge. He needed to brood. He might never see his son again, and all because the boy was ... was ...

Overly eager to prove himself. Convinced he was immortal. Unwilling to listen to anyone else once he'd made up his mind.

Where did he get this behavior?

* * *

_Why does he have to treat me like I'm useless?_ Luke thought, angrily _, I'm not afraid!_

His angry thoughts didn't help him feel any better about his situation, though. He was feeling increasingly miserable as he trudged along in front of the spy. It seemed like they'd been walking through these corridors for twenty minutes now. Surely, they had to be getting near his ship soon?

_If there even is a ship._

"Where are you taking me?" Luke asked. "To your ship? How much longer?"

"Do you have to keep asking that?! Stop whining!"

"I have a right to know!"

A beeping sound interrupted them, and the spy took out his comlink, carefully balancing it in one hand in order to keep his blaster trained on Luke.

Luke immediately recognized the voice on the other end as belonging to the leader, who'd negotiated the terms with his father.

"Have you found him?"

"Yes, I've got him."

"Who was in that escape pod, then?"

"An admiral. Must've missed him in the sweeps. No big deal."

"No big deal? He might have sabotaged the ship!"

"This is an Imperial we're talking about—he was more interested in saving his own neck. Forget it—we've got the kid, that's what's important."

"Are you willing to stake our lives on that? I'm not. I've spoken to the others—we're ready to chuck it in and make a break for it. They'll be other times."

The words seemed to cause the spy to tense.

"No! Don't you see? If we hold out just a little bit longer, we're going to get what we came for. Risk nothing, gain nothing."

"We had a plan. The plan did not involve an Imperial officer escaping the ship."

"You can't always rely on plans!"

They continued to argue, causing Luke to become increasingly confused. Wasn't the spy working for the Emperor? Wouldn't he want the hostage-takers to abandon the ship? Why was he arguing?

"Give me ten more minutes!" the spy insisted. "Ten more, and I'll be on the bridge, and we can discuss this in person."

He switched off the comlink, and then reattached it to his utility belt.

"I don't get it," Luke said. "Why are you arguing with them?"

"None of your business, kid," the spy said, curtly. He had knelt down in front of a computer terminal, built into the wall of the ship.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked. "I thought we were going to the docking bay."

"Quiet." He gestured with the barrel end of his blaster. "Stand against the wall, and don't move."

Luke obeyed, sensing that an opportunity to escape might arise any second now. The spy couldn't use a computer and watch him at the same time. He was holding the blaster somewhat loosely, while he entered a long sequence of letters and numbers with his left hand.

Luke held his breath and counted to five, slowly. He then gathered his courage, and rushed the spy, jumping on his arm and wrestling the blaster away. The spy was completely taken by surprise, but he quickly gained the upper hand, being bigger and stronger. When they got back to their feet, Luke was still holding his blaster, though.

The spy didn't seem too upset.

"Enjoy what's left of your life, kid," he said, shrugging, and he sprinted off in the direction of the hangar. Luke stared after him in confusion, and then glanced at the computer screen.

Suddenly, white lettering appeared on the screen in a bright red square.

_Self Destruct Sequence Activated—counting 15:00_

"Self destruct!" Luke shouted, in panic.

He brought his fist down on the terminal controls, and then stood back and blasted the electronics. The timer wouldn't stop though ... it was down to fourteen minutes now.

What to do? Run for an escape pod? But could he really leave all the passengers and crew to die? By the time he reached them, time would be up!

He looked around desperately, before spotting something lying on the corridor floor. It was a comlink ... the spy's comlink! He must have dropped it during their struggle.

Luke dived on it, and hit the buttons until an image of the leader appeared.

"What now?! Oh—"

"Hi," Luke said. "Listen, your friend—he's an Imperial spy. He's set a self-destruct—the ship is going to explode in fourteen minutes! Wait, make that 13 minutes, 50 seconds! You have to get everybody off the ship now!"

"Why are you using his comlink?"

"That's not important now!" Luke said, angrily. Why did adults never take him seriously? "He dropped it and ran off! Listen, you're running out of time!"

The leader was about to reply, when he was interrupted by loud shouts in the background. The panicky tone indicated someone had confirmed the self-destruct.

"By the stars, you're serious!" he said. "Is there any way to disarm it?"

"I fried the controls, but nothing happened!" Luke said. "I think it's already spread throughout the entire ship's network!"

"We'll have to evacuate!"

"I'm already looking for a docking bay," Luke said, studying a map on the wall. "Any help would be nice!"

"Get in an elevator, and go to the lowest floor," the leader said, quickly. "Then head to the bow of the ship."

Luke was already running. "Thanks," he gasped.

The image disappeared, and Luke threw the comlink away. He skidded into an elevator, and pressed the button for the lowest floor, as the leader had said. He could only hope he was heading in the right direction.

The duration of the elevator ride gave Luke a moment to catch his breath. He gazed around at the walls, feeling trapped. He was fearful the ship would explode at any moment. How long to go now? Perhaps it was better that he didn't know.

The doors slid open, and Luke ran out, looking around desperately. Which way to the front of the ship? There were no signs anywhere, and he was lost.

No choice, but to pick a direction and hope it was the right one.

* * *

Vader had been sensing his son's fear growing ever stronger by the second. He tried desperately to get some kind of response from his son ... if only he knew what was going on, he might be able to help him. But he had completely shut him out.

"Lord Vader!"

Vader turned, seeing the admiral and the captain conferring with an officer in the crew pit.

"Is there a change?"

"Yes, my lord—we're detecting one—no make that _two_ escape pods."

Vader quickly walked over, and they stood aside to allow him to see the readouts.

"There's more of them ..." the captain added, just as more blips appeared on the starboard side of the ship.

"Lifeforms?" Vader asked.

The science station hurried to find an answer to his question. Within ten seconds, a junior officer shouted a reply. "They're all occupied ... to full capacity!"

"More ... by the stars, there must be hundreds of them!" the captain said.

"Perhaps the passengers have overpowered the hostage takers," Admiral Reallis suggested.

"See if you can get them on the comm," Vader said. "Meanwhile, send shuttles to retrieve the escape pods."

The bridge crew rushed to carry out his order, but the captain was still intently studying the readouts. "Now there's a ship," he said. "It's a shuttle ... judging by their speed, I'd say they're going to attempt a jump to hyperspace. They should be out of range of the Interdictor in ... 20 minutes."

"Send TIEs to disable them," Vader said. "Not one ship must leave."

He was all too aware of the possibility of Luke being on that shuttle. If his kidnappers should succeed in making hyperspace ... his son could be lost forever! Perhaps the spy was piloting that shuttle. Perhaps Luke was unconscious ...

_Father! I need your help!_

Clearly not ...

_Luke! What is going on?_

_The ship is going to self-destruct!_

_What?! Are you responsible for this?_

_No! I swear! It was the ISB spy, remember him?_

_How long until detonation?_

_I don't know! Soon ... it was fifteen minutes, but that was ages ago._

"Move the fleet away from the Abyssian ship!" Vader ordered, suddenly. "Quickly! It is going to self-destruct."

The captain stared at him dumbly for a second, but the admiral, clearly trying to get back on his good side, instantly moved to make it happen.

Vader was more concerned about his son, however.

_Luke, where are you?_

_I'm in a docking bay ... in a ship. I'm trying to get it started, but, thanks to you and your lack of piloting lessons, I can't figure out these controls!_

_Tell me what you see._

_There's a round button ... and a lever. One of the lights is glowing._

_Show me! Focus on the controls!_

Luke did so, and for an instant, Vader received a clear image of what his son could see. It only lasted a second, but a second was all he needed.

_On your right ... press and hold the green button, and then pull the closest lever towards you._

_The engines have powered up!_

_Good ... now, switch on the computer ..._

_Already done—I do know something about flying a ship! It says I'm in neutral ... I've switched it to flight mode._

_Are you facing the exit?_

_No, I'm facing a wall. The exit is behind the ship._

Vader sighed. That would make it more difficult.

_There is a lever on your left, which can be set to one of five positions. You need to pull it towards you, and then slip it into the notch marked 'reverse thrusters'._

_There's no lever!_

_Above the fuel gauge readout!_

_I can't find it!_

_Because you are panicking! Calm down!_

_It's not here!_

_Show me again!_

Luke did so, but this time he was focusing on the right side of the controls.

_On the other side!_

_Oh ... you mean that left! Found it!_

"There's a power surge in the ship's interior!" the captain shouted. "What's our distance?"

"6.3 sir!"

Vader ignored the shouts and focused his gaze on the doomed ship which still filled the observation windows, despite their hasty retreat.

_Luke, pull the stick towards you!_

There was silence on the other end.

_Luke?!_

_Hang on, just trying to get the shields up ..._

_Don't worry about that ... you need to get out of the ship now!_

_I'm getting there! I'm moving!_

The Abyssian ship was beginning to shudder. Vader didn't need to study the sensor equipment to see the ship was starting to disintegrate.

_Hurry!_

_Tell that to this rustbucket!_

The words had only just echoed in Vader's mind, before a window-shaking boom rang through the ship, and a blinding light caused the crew to shield their eyes.

_Luke! Luke!_

There was glowing debris and spinning pieces of starship everywhere. Little meteors of durasteel and engine casing were bouncing off their shields, causing a mini-explosion wherever they hit.

The bridge crew began to shout status reports.

"Shields are at 43, but holding!"

"Minor damage reported by the _Stormshead_ and the _Detonator_!"

"One shuttle has made it into hyperspace!"

Vader was searching the starfield desperately, straining to see some sign ... some confirmation that the worst hadn't occurred.

 _Luke?_ he called. _Son?_

 _Wow!_ came a joyous reply. _Did you see that?_

Vader released a long, slow breath. _It was hard to miss._

His son immediately became serious. _Did the passengers make it?_

_There were hundreds of escape pods released before the explosion. Shuttles are picking them up. I will direct one to your location if you give me the coordinates._

_Don't worry, I've got the hang of this now! I'll be there in a minute._

_Landing on a Star Destroyer is a complex procedure!_

_I can handle it!_

Vader released the mind-link and scanned the bridge until he located the captain. He was by the comm station, trying to deal with a backlog of transmissions.

He looked up as Vader approached.

"Lord Vader! Several ships are requesting orders regarding the survivors—are we to detain them?"

"Do whatever you like," Vader said, waving a dismissive hand. "You and the admiral can handle this situation, Captain. I have no doubt the Abyssian government will soon be contacting you regarding the return of their royal family."

"Yes, sir," the captain said. "Admiral Reallis is in the docking bay ... he is overseeing the arrival of the survivors."

"Good. Tell him I am on my way."

Vader turned to leave, before a thought made him halt.

"Captain, is the tractor beam functioning?"

The captain frowned. "I wouldn't risk it, sir—the amount of debris surrounding the ship is too great."

Vader nodded and quickly resumed his journey to the elevator bay. If the tractor beam was not a possibility, then he could only hope Luke had inherited some piloting skills, along with his tendency to get himself into ridiculous situations.

_I heard that!_

_You were supposed to_ , Vader sent back. _Where are you?_

_Just flying underneath the bow. You know, I never realized how big a Star Destroyer really was before!_

_Stop sightseeing and pay attention to your scopes. You will be coming up on the entrance to the docking bay soon. When you do so, lower your speed to—_

_I can see it! There's a shuttle going in!_

_Follow it!_ Vader sent. The elevator doors slid open in front of him, and he quickly stepped out into the docking bay. Through the main airlock, he could see a shuttle in the process of extending its landing gear. Luke must be seconds away.

Admiral Reallis came to greet him.

"Lord Vader! We are detecting an unauthorized ship approaching the docking bay. It is not transmitting any identification codes."

"Allow it through," Vader said. "The piloting may be somewhat erratic—Luke is at the controls."

"Will he be able to land it?"

"We are about to find out," Vader said, resting his hands on the safety railing. "It may be wise to clear the area."

The admiral nodded and flicked a switch on a nearby terminal. A warning klaxon began to echo through the bay, and the stormtroopers and pilots on the deck rushed to the safety areas.

A small utility craft appeared against the starfield, weaving from side to side as if an engine was failing. Vader could sense Luke's Force presence radiating from it.

 _Lower your speed!_ Vader sent, becoming nervous as the craft began to swing to the left.

_It can't go any lower! I'm barely moving as it is!_

_A likely story._

_There's a warning light—I don't know what it means._

The craft suddenly dipped, and the nose dropped below the minimum entry angle.

_Pull back!_

_I'm trying! There's something interfering with the guidance system—I think the ship was damaged in the explosion._

"Half the port-side wing has been torn off," the admiral said, as if privy to the private conversation. "It's listing badly."

_Pull left!_

Luke must have done so, because the craft shifted back on course.

 _You're about to hit the force field,_ Vader explained. _You may experience some turbulence._

_Once I'm through, what then?_

_Reverse thrusters_ , _aim for the ground and cut the engine._

_Come on! That's a crash landing!_

_Try not to hit anything,_ Vader added.

The craft began to shake as it passed through the force field, and under the bright lights of the docking bay, Vader could now see how badly the craft was damaged. It was a miracle it was in one piece at all. At the last second, the nose dropped again, putting the craft on a collision course with the floor.

 _Reverse thrusters!_ Vader sent.

_I just did! Nothing happened!_

_Cut the engines!_

Too late. The craft squealed against the deck and spun around in a shower of sparks as its momentum sent it skidding towards the line of parked shuttles.

Vader stretched out a hand and gathered the Force. The energy quickly responded to his need, and the craft began to screech to a halt. Its right wing clipped the nearest shuttle, sending it into another spin, before it finally came to a rest against the wall.

The admiral released an audible sigh of relief and quickly approached the wreck, with Vader close behind. Stormtroopers were already dousing the smoking hull in a fire-resistant chemical, and one was attempting to pry open the hatch using the manual emergency release.

By the time Vader reached the scene, an exhausted, but otherwise healthy Luke was jumping down to the deck. His face lit up when he saw Vader.

"Dad!"

Before Vader could stop him, he opened his arms and clung to him like a sarlacc snatching its prey. Vader was mortified. He looked down at the blond mop pressed against his armor and then back at the crew. The stormtroopers had stopped their work and were staring blankly, while the admiral had politely looked in the other direction. It was fairly clear that he was smiling, though.

"Luke," Vader said.

There was no reaction from his son.

"Luke!"

Vader attempted to pry Luke away, and then his eye fell on one of the fire-extinguishers. Maybe he could use it to spray Luke off.

Luke finally let go and stepped back.

"Where's the fresher?" he asked, glancing around.

"Over there," Vader said, gratefully giving Luke a push in the right direction.

As Luke hurried away, Vader looked back at the troopers. They hastily resumed their work, pretending they had seen nothing.

Vader turned to the admiral.

"I am returning to Coruscant. You are now in command here."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

Vader started to leave and then paused.

"And if you value your life," he added. "You will not tell anyone of what you just saw."

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir," the admiral hastily replied.

* * *

After arriving safely back at the palace, Luke had eagerly shared the story of his capture and escape with his droids over a large meal. It had been harrowing, nerve-wracking, and frightening at times, but now that he was safe, it seemed like an exciting adventure. Not one he'd want to have again in a hurry, but thrilling all the same.

"And then when I got to a ship, I powered it up and flew out of there," Luke said. "Right before it exploded!"

Artoo whistled, sounding awed, but Threepio was becoming increasingly distressed. "My goodness, Master Luke! You could have been killed!"

"Relax Threepio, I'm here, I made it," Luke said. "Although, you should have seen the landing—"

He was cut off by the repeated beeping of his door comm. Luke glanced over at his bedside chronometer, and saw it was nearing midnight. It could only be his father.

"Sorry guys," Luke said, as the door slid open. "I think the show's over. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow."

Artoo whistled sadly, but Threepio seemed somewhat relieved. They quickly made an exit, having to navigate their way around a somewhat puzzled Sith Lord in the process.

"What is going on?" he said, stepping into the room. "Why are you still awake?"

"I was waiting up for you," Luke said, standing up.

"I told you I was going to report to the Emperor ... it took longer than I anticipated to explain—" he suddenly broke off and looked aside in clear disgust.

"What?" Luke said. "I _like_ these pajamas!"

"'Blinding' does not do them justice."

"You think anything besides pitch black is blinding."

"It is," his father replied. He came closer, and held out a datapad. "I received a message from the Abyssian monarchy. They escaped from the explosion and made it safely to hyperspace. It seems they are under the impression you had something to do with the survival of the passengers."

Luke accepted the datapad and walked back to his bed as he read it. There was a message included at the end from Lilly, addressed to him.

_Dear Luke,_

_Everyone is talking about how you saved all our lives. No one would have made it off the ship in time if you hadn't told us about the self-destruct. How does it feel to be a hero?_

_I hope this incident hasn't put you off Abyssia. You're welcome to visit anytime. Besides, we still need to finish our game ... I believe the score was 10-10._

Luke grinned. "The princess wants a beep ball rematch," he said to his father. "Can we go visit them sometime on Abyssia? I could pilot!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," his father said, pointing at him. "Today was an exceptional circumstance. It does not mean you are ready to go joyriding around the galaxy."

"But I did okay for my first time, right?" Luke said.

His father hesitated for a moment. "Remarkably well," he admitted, finally.

"Then can we go for another lesson tomorrow? Can we, can we, can we?"

"Maybe when you're older. And you need to learn to pilot an air-speeder, first."

"I was driving landspeeders when my feet could reach the pedals!" Luke insisted, folding his arms. "Just show me the controls, and I can fly it—" Luke paused to yawn. "—anywhere," he added, sleepily. He glanced over at his bed, and then tugged at the bedclothes. They were all in a knotted heap at one end of the bed.

His father noticed the mess, and Luke knew a remark couldn't be far behind.

"Are you planning to sleep in _that_?"

"Why? Are you offering to let me sleep in your room?"

His father quickly moved to help him. When all the sheets were straightened out, Luke crawled underneath. Then, to Luke's embarrassment, his father began to tuck him in.

"I'm too old for that!" Luke complained.

"And yet too young to make your bed properly in the first place," his father said, sitting on the side of the freshly made and tucked-in bed. "It must be a very convenient age."

"It would be if you thought I was old enough to fly," Luke said, meeting his father's masked gaze. "I bet you were flying when you were my age."

"Goodnight," his father said, starting to stand up.

Luke reached out to stop him. "Wait a moment. Do I have to go to anymore of these parties?"

"Absolutely not."

"Really? You mean I proved myself?"

"No. You were doing adequately up until you ... you ... _attacked_ me in the docking bay. But I have decided that public appearances are too dangerous for you, unless they are absolutely necessary."

"Attacked you? That was a _hug_!"

"Whatever it was, never do it again. Especially not in front of other people."

"But weren't you pleased to see me?"

His father looked away for a moment, as if fighting some sort of inner conflict.

"I was ... relieved that you were unharmed," he said, finally.

"You know," Luke said, fidgeting with the bedcover. "When I woke up, and found I was a hostage ... I was kinda ... well, I was worried."

"You were scared?"

"No! I was ... all right, I was afraid I might never see you again. And I felt guilty about what happened ... about thinking you weren't really my father. Because, at that moment, I realized that I didn't want to be anyone else except your son. And I realized how lucky I am to have you as my father. Not because you can use the Force, and own the coolest speeders in the universe. But because you care about me."

"Does this mean you're going to start cleaning your room and making your bed?" his father asked, seriously.

Luke grinned. "Maybe."

"What about getting to bed at a reasonable hour and staying out of trouble?"

"Well ..." Luke frowned. It was a lot to ask.

"In other words, my life is going to remain in a constant state of disorder, for many long years to come."

"I know," Luke said. "And I love you too."

His father appeared uncomfortable for a moment, before he let out a sigh of defeat.

"Mess and disorder aside, I too am pleased to have you as my son," his father said. He then quickly stood up. "And I am going to leave now, before this conversation descends into sentimentality."

"That's okay," Luke said. "You did pretty well."

"Sleep well, my son."

"G'Night."

He switched out the room lights on his way out, and Luke heard the doors slide closed. He waited a few seconds, just to make sure his father had really gone, and then debated with himself whether or not to add 'your lordship'. It was unlikely his father would hear, but then, you never could be sure. Not with a Sith Lord.

_No, you most certainly cannot._

Luke started. _You said you couldn't read my private thoughts!_

_Only when you are debating whether or not to insult me._

_Can I have my t-shirt back? The one about the problems of having a Sith Lord for a father?_ Luke asked.

His father's mood darkened. _No_.

_Please?_

_No_.

_Please?_

_No!_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading all : )
> 
>  **Fanart**  
>  Check out this amazing fanart:
> 
> From Klayper:
> 
> <https://www.deviantart.com/klayper/art/Force-Bond-Social-trials-198949666>
> 
> From Scuddington:
> 
> <https://scuddington.tumblr.com/post/640254656095895552/the-admiral-released-an-audible-sigh-of-relief>  
> <https://scuddington.tumblr.com/post/615219174242975744/i-am-a-sith-and-a-sith-is-not-mocked-adapted>
> 
> From Spacedaaadddd:
> 
> <https://spacedaaadddd.tumblr.com/post/617347723913527296/kittandchips-forcebond-inspiredddd-and-of-course>


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